*** 


J4-B1. 


THE  BIRD  HOSPITAL 


Pleasant  Street  Series 

New  Edition,  J906 


\  Pleasant  Street,  Smiling  Valley 
By  SARAH  E.  LEE 

2  Home  Songs  for  Little  Darlings 

3  Smiles 

By  ALICE  LEWIS  RICHARDS 

4  Winks 

By  ALICE  LEWIS  RICHARDS 

5  Unfer  the  Nursery  Lamp 

6  The  Moon  Party 

By  OLLIE  KURD  BRAGDON 

7  Bobby  and  Bobbinette 

By  ANNIE  R.  TALBOT 

8  Little  Mildred's  Secret 

By  GRACE  SQUIRES 

9  Tale  of  Two  Terriers,  Crib  and  Fly 

By  CHARLES  WELCH 

JO  The  Bird  Hospital 

By  CAROLINE  CROWNINSHIELD  BASCOM 

\\  The  Wishbone  Boat 

By  ALICE  C.  D.  RILEY 


!  THE  BIRD 

HOSPITAL 


BY 

CAROLINE    CROWNINSHIELD 
BASCOM 


ILLUSTRATED  FROM 
PHOTOGRAPHS 


BOSTON 


H.   M.   CALDWELL   CO. 


Copyright,  1905 
BY  H.  M.  CALDWELL  Co. 


COLONIAL    PRESS 

Electrotyfied  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Simonds  &>  Co. 
Boston,   U.S.A. 


DEDICATED   TO 
MY    LIFELONG    FRIEND 

f^annalj  (SoulB  ^HpnUerae 

WITH    THE    LOVE    OF 

Caroline  CrornnuiBibicU  •Bnorom 


2051561 


PREFACE 

THE  study  of  birds  (and  a  most  de- 
lightful study  too)  is  steadily  on  the  in- 
crease, and  a  great  deal  of  good  is  being 
done.  A  great  deal  more  might  be  done 
if  older  people  would  take  more  pains 
in  impressing  upon  all  children  never  to 
harm  in  any  way  our  feathered  friends. 

I  have  prepared  this  little  book  of  sim- 
ple true  tales,  not  for  the  literary  critic 
to  pull  to  pieces,  but  simply  to  give  pleas- 
ure to  all  lovers  of  pets,  hoping  it  may 
be  of  some  help  to  those  who  wish  to 
tame  and  train  their  birds  or  cats. 

I  especially  want  it  to  teach  children 

to  love  and  be  kind  to  all  living  creatures 

God  has  put  upon  the  earth.     He  has 

never   put   anything   here   that   has   not 

v 


PREFACE 

some  use,  no  matter  how  some  may  fear 
and  hate  the  lower  animals. 

Never  hurt  anything,  and  only  kill 
when  it  is  necessary,  and  then  do  it  in 
the  quickest  and  most  humane  way. 

I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  from  any  chil- 
dren who  have  pets,  and  will  aid  them 
all  I  can  in  taming  and  training  them. 

CAROLINE  CROWNINSHIELD  BASCOM. 

19  GREEN  ST.,  SENECA  FALLS,  N.  Y. 


VI 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB  PAGE 

I.  LITTLE  BILLEE         .         .         .         .         .11 

II.  TAFFY  AND  TRICKSEY     ....       36 

III.  DEWEY 52 

IV.  TRINATA 71 

V.     CADY 87 

VI.  SOME  TRANSIENT  PATIENTS  .  .  .  102 
VII.  JUDY  AND  NED  .  .  .  .  .116 
VIII.  DONA  MARINA 125 

IX.      BOBBINETTE      AND      BOBBY Two      OR- 
PHANS  .  .     139 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 
BOBBINETTE,      BOBBY,       DlCK,      DONA       MARINA, 

BLONDELL   AND   Miss    BASCOM   (Page  163) 

Frontispiece 

TAFFY .18 

TRICKSEY 43 

DEWEY  READY  FOR  His  BATH  ....       60 
CADY  TAKING  His  SINGING  LESSON  ...       94 

BLONDELL 122 

BOBBINETTE  AND  BOBBY     .....     152 
BLONDE,   BOBBY,  BOBBINETTE,  BRUNETTE,  AND 

BLONDELL  ,     162 


THE  BIRD  HOSPITAL 

CHAPTER   I. 

LITTLE   BILLEE 

I  HAVE  always  been  passionately  fond 
of  animals,  and  would  like  to  make  pets 
of  them  all.  During  the  winter  I  keep 
a  free -lunch  counter  on  my  bedroom 
window-sill  for  my  little  friends,  the 
English  sparrows.  Often  there  will  be 
two  dozen  partaking  of  the  crumbs  at 
the  same  time,  no  two  looking  alike,  and 
making  one  think  of  a  bootblack  spread 
in  New  York.  Their  table  manners  are 
not  always  the  best,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
and  there  is  often  a  great  deal  of  cuffing, 
scratching,  and  angry  words. 

When  the  first  warm  days  of  spring 
11 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

come,  they  all  say  ee  bon  jour"  but  the 
cold  days  of  autumn  bring  them  back  in 
full  force,  and  it  is  like  welcoming  old 
friends. 

During  the  summer  I  keep  a  hospital, 
and  I  have  had  some  very  curious  cases. 
The  children  bring  in  to  me  all  of  the 
stray  birds  they  find  or  take  away  from 
cats.  Often  I  have  had  ten  at  a  time. 
Some  die  from  want  of  food  when  I 
cannot  make  them  eat,  but  more  often 
from  wounds  received  from  cats  or 
boys. 

It  is  heartrending  to  have  brought  to 
me  a  handsome  pair  of  robins  all  torn 
to  pieces,  and  feel  there  is  nothing  I  can 
do  to  save  their  lives,  when  I  know  their 
babies  in  the  nests  are  crying  for  food, 
and  will  soon  die  from  starvation. 

My  hospital  really  opened  one  June 
by  my  mother  picking  up  off  the  front 
sidewalk  a  little  brown  bird  which  could 
not  have  been  more  than  two  weeks  old. 
I  had  been  ill  many  months,  and  my 

12 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

mother  and  friends  had  done  all  they 
could  to  make  the  days  pass  as  quickly 
as  possible  for  me.  So  when  my  mother 
saw  the  little  orphan,  she  put  him  in  her 
handkerchief  and  brought  him  to  my 
room,  thinking  it  might  amuse  me,  and 
I  took  him  inside  the  bed.  After  an 
hour  he  seemed  very  happy  and  not  at 
all  afraid. 

I  looked  him  over  carefully,  but  found 
him  uninjured.  I  took  him  to  an  open 
window,  expecting  to  see  him  try  to  fly 
away,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  have  the 
slightest  intention  of  doing  so. 

The  first  day  I  could  not  get  him  to 
eat  anything  until  night,  when  he  drank 
milk  from  an  after-dinner  coffee-spoon. 
After  that  he  took  little  pieces  of  bread 
soaked  in  milk  from  my  tongue  or  lips. 
I  fed  him  in  that  way  for  several  days, 
then  he  would  take  it  out  of  my  fingers. 
He  lived  on  bread  and  milk  for  two 
weeks;  after  that  he  ate  anything  I  did, 

—  all    kinds    of    vegetables,    mushrooms, 

13 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

and  ice-cream.  He  liked  to  sit  on  my 
shoulder  and  take  his  food  off  my  fork. 
I  had  some  kind  of  nourishment  every 
two  hours,  and  Little  Billee  knew  ve*y 
well  when  my  maid  came  to  my  room 
with  a  salver  that  there  was  something 
on  it  to  eat  or  drink,  and  he  was  wild 
until  he  could  get  on  my  hand  or  shoul- 
der. He  drank  milk  from  my  tumbler, 
and  would  not  drink  water  out  of  any- 
thing but  my  medicine  glass.  When 
Little  Billee  would  see  me  sit  down  in 
the  morning  with  an  orange  on  a  plate, 
he'd  fly  upon  his  cage,  then  over  into 
my  lap,  and  sit  on  the  first  finger  of  my 
left  hand,  and  eat  the  orange  from  my 
spoon.  At  first  he  could  not  crack  his 
own  seeds,  and,  as  he  was  very  fond  of 
them,  I  used  to  do  it  for  him.  Later  he 
could  crack  them  himself,  but  preferred 
eating  them  outside  his  cage,  and  his 
hemp  seed  he  would  always  bring  over 
and  eat  on  the  rug  in  front  of  my 
bed. 

14 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

He  was  very  fond  of  little  orange- 
blossom  biscuit.  I  kept  some  in  a  tin 
box  under  a  table  by  the  side  of  my  bed. 
For  several  days,  every  time  I  would 
reach  out  of  bed  and  tap  on  the  box, 
Little  Billee  would  come  running  for  a 
piece.  One  day  I  was  visiting  with  a 
friend,  and  we  forgot  all  about  the  bird. 
Soon  we  heard  rap,  tap,  tap,  peep, 
peep,  peep,  and  there  was  Little  Billee 
standing  by  the  box  waiting  for  a  piece. 
After  that  he  would  come  many  times 
a  day.  If  I  sent  him  away  with  a  small 
piece,  he  would  return  directly  for  a 
large  one. 

I  had  quite  a  time  teaching  him  to 
stay  in  his  cage.  The  first  day  I  put 
him  in,  I  was  afraid  he  would  die  of 
fright,  and  I  left  the  cage  on  the  floor 
for  two  days  before  he  ventured  in. 
After  he  had  been  going  in  and  out  for 
some  time,  I  closed  the  door,  but  he  was 
frightened  quite  as  much  as  at  first,  and 
he  would  not  go  near  the  cage  the  rest 
15 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

of  the  day.  Finally  I  tried  taking  the 
cage  on  my  lap  and  shutting  him  in;  he 
did  not  seem  afraid  then,  and  soon  he  did 
not  mind  being  shut  up  in  the  morning 
when  I  was  in  my  dressing-room,  but  he 
much  preferred  going  in  and  out  at  his 
own  sweet  will.  If  I  left  him  shut  up 
in  his  cage  and  went  back  to  bed,  he  was 
frantic  until  he  was  let  out,  and  would 
then  get  in  bed  with  me.  For  the  first 
two  weeks  he  was  not  happy  if  he  was 
not  on  me  somewhere.  He  would  stay 
in  bed  with  me  for  hours  at  a  time,  but 
when  he  became  more  accustomed  to 
the  house  he  would  play  on  the  floor 
with  a  little  piece  of  paper,  cotton,  or 
a  ribbon,  and  eat  his  seeds  and  bis- 
cuit. 

I  dress  my  hair  high,  and  it  was  Little 
Billee's  special  delight  to  sit  on  the  top 
of  my  twist  while  I  walked  about  my 
room.  During  the  first  few  weeks,  if 
I  put  him  on  the  floor  when  he  had  been 
in  bed  with  me,  he  would  hop  back  and 

16 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

forth  on  the  rug  in  front  of  my  bed,  and 
beg  to  be  taken,  as  he  could  not  fly 
straight  up.  I  would  put  down  my  hand, 
he  would  hop  upon  my  finger,  and  in  a 
second  be  back  inside  the  bed.  If  I  was 
sitting  in  a  chair,  and  put  him  down  on 
the  floor,  he  would  climb  right  up  from 
my  feet  to  my  neck,  put  his  little  bill 
in  my  mouth,  and  chirp  with  glee.  One 
day  he  was  on  the  floor,  and  did  not  see 
me  go  back  to  bed,  but  saw  my  wrapper 
over  a  chair  which  stood  about  a  yard 
from  my  bed.  He  supposed  I  was  in- 
side of  it,  but,  when  he  reached  the  top 
and  found  no  mouth  to  put  his  bill  into, 
he  gave  several  very  mournful  peeps, 
but,  as  soon  as  I  spoke  to  him,  he  chirped, 
and  it  did  not  take  him  long  to  fly  over 
to  me.  The  next  day  when  I  put  him 
down  on  the  floor,  I  was  anxious  to  see 
what  he  would  do.  After  teasing  for 
some  time  for  me  to  take  him,  he  went 
to  the  chair,  climbed  up  on  the  wrapper 
until  he  reached  the  top,  then  flew  over 
17 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

to  me.  Ever  after  he  came  that  way 
when  I  refused  to  take  him. 

One  day  I  left  Little  Billee  on  the  rug 
in  front  of  the  bed,  and  went  into  my 
dressing-room.  While  I  was  gone,  my 
mother  came  in  and  sat  down.  He  was 
much  frightened.  Every  time  she  spoke 
to  him,  he  ran  under  the  bed,  stuck  his 
little  head  out  from  under  the  valance 
and  peeped  for  me  to  come  to  him. 
When  I  spoke,  he  answered,  but  he  was 
too  much  afraid  to  pass  mother  to  come 
to  me.  When  I  came  out,  he  ran  quickly 
to  me  and  flew  on  to  the  back  of  a  very 
low  chair.  I  bent  down  and  he  flew 
up  on  my  shoulder,  chirping  as  loud  as 
he  could.  No  little  child  could  have 
shown  more  joy  in  getting  back  to  its 
mother.  I  do  not  suppose  he  remembered 
any  other  mother,  and  thought  all  little 
birds  have  just  such  good  mothers  as  I. 

I  have  a  magnificent  big  tiger  cat 
named  Taffy,  so  I  thought  Little  Billee 
would  be  a  very  good  name  for  my  wee 

18 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

bird.  It  seemed  a  very  appropriate  name, 
too,  as  he  spent  a  great  deal  of  his  time 
dressing  himself  and  manicuring  his  nails. 
When  he  would  strut  about  with  his  head 
held  high,  you  could  plainly  see  the  long 
coat,  high  collar,  high  hat,  and  umbrella, 
and  could  easily  imagine  the  original 
Little  Billee  was  before  you.  But  I  'am 
sorry  to  say  Taffy  and  my  Little  Billee 
would  never  go  walking  arm  in  arm  to- 
gether. Twice  Taffy  caught  Little 
Billee,  but  I  rescued  him  from  the  jaws 
of  death  before  any  harm  was  done,  and 
I  tried  my  best  to  get  them  to  live  con- 
tentedly together.  I  would  not  allow 
Little  Billee  to  go  out  into  .the  hall,  for 
fear  he  would  fly  down-stairs  and  be 
caught  by  Taffy  before  any  one  could 
reach  him.  Before  the  door  into  the 
hall  is  a  small  rug,  and  he  thought  flying 
over  that  a  great  feat,  but  when  I  would 
say:  "  Little  Billee,  come  right  home," 
he  would  return  instantly. 

He  went  to  bed  at  eight  o'clock  in  a 
19 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

little  basket,  which  I  put  on  the  top  of 
some  hanging  shelves,  so  there  would  be 
no  danger  from  Taffy  in  the  dark. 
Taffy  slept  on  my  bed  every  night,  and 
very  often  on  the  outside  when  Little 
Billee  was  inside,  and  it  seemed  like  the 
lion  and  the  lamb  lying  down  together. 
Little  Billee  would  usually  be  contented 
in  his  basket  until  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning;  then  I'd  take  him  into  the  bed 
with  me,  where  he  would  lie  quietly  oil 
my  arm,  neck,  or  palm  until  I  got  up 
at  nine.  He  never  peeped  unless  I  spoke 
to  him,  then  he  would  chirp  away  like  a 
happy  child.  On  fine  evenings  I'd  sit 
before  an  open  window  from  seven  until 
eight  o'clock  with  Little  Billee  on  my 
finger  listening  to  the  birds.  When  he 
became  sleepy,  he  would  tuck  his  little 
head  under  his  wing,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes crawl  into  the  palm  of  my  hand  and 
go  sound  asleep;  then  he  would  be  ready 
for  his  basket. 

When    the    hot    wave    came,    I    went 

20 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

down-stairs  at  seven  o'clock,  shutting 
him  up  in  his  cage.  The  second  night 
I  had  hard  work  to  catch  him.  He  ran 
into  the  hall,  and  would  not  come  when 
I  called  to  him.  The  third  night,  when 
he  saw  me  making  preparations  to  dress, 
he  acted  like  mad.  He  hopped  all 
around  me,  put  out  his  tiny  wings,  and 
tried  to  fly  on  to  me;  opened  his  bill, 
but  not  a  sound  came  out.  As  I  stood 
in  front  of  my  dressing-table,  he  flew  to 
the  top  of  his  cage,  which  stood  on  the 
floor,  to  the  back  of  a  chair  which  was 
near  me,  then  up  to  my  shoulder,  chirp- 
ing away  so  merrily  that  I  knew  he  was 
saying:  "Please  take  me  with  you." 

Of  course,  after  that,  it  is  needless  to 
say  that  I  took  him  down-stairs,  and  he 
went  down  every  night  after,  where  he 
remained  until  eight  o'clock,  then  was 
put  into  his  basket,  and  I  heard  no  more 
from  him  until  morning. 

On  pleasant  mornings  I  sat  on  the 
piazza,  and  Little  Billee  sat  on  my  hand 
21 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

or  played  in  my  lap.  When  I  walked  on 
the  sidewalk  Little  Billee  went,  too,  and 
never  offered  to  fly  away,  and  when  the 
wind  blew  he  held  on  tight.  Sometimes 
he  sang,  and  always  seemed  interested 
in  all  that  was  going  on  about  him. 

Twice  Little  Billee  flew  out  of  my 
window  from  fright.  Once  he  was  on 
my  shoulder  when  a  very  small  girl  with 
a  very  large  hat  came  up  to  him,  and 
away  he  flew.  The  next  time  a  large 
bunch  of  ferns  was  brought  to  me.  I 
thought  he  would  like  it  and  think  it  a 
nice  little  tree,  but  I  was  all  the  tree  he 
seemed  to  care  for.  He  was  so  fright- 
ened he  flew  on  to  a  chair,  and,  as  I  held 
up  a  fern,  out  of  the  window  he  went. 
Both  times  when  my  maid  went  to  look 
for  him,  she  could  not  find  him  until  she 
peeped,  then  he  answered,  and  she  found 
him  sitting  in  the  grass  waiting  to  be 
picked  up,  and  he  was  delighted  to  get 
back  to  me. 

Little  Billee  never  went  to  any  one 

22 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

except  my  physician,  and  that  was  when 
I  had  had  him  about  a  week.  He  went 
to  him,  hopped  all  over  his  shoulder, 
picked  at  his  collar  and  tie,  and  was  very 
friendly.  Later  he  would  not  even  go  to 
him,  and  I  felt  sure  I  was  Trilby,  and  his 
only  love.  Perhaps  the  children  who 
read  this  will  think  Little  Billee  was 
an  angel  bird  and  too  good  to  live,  but 
I  will  say  right  here  he  was  too  bad  to 
die.  Like  all  bright  children,  sometimes 
he  was  very  naughty.  For  instance, 
when  I  wanted  to  lie  quietly  on  my  bed 
in  the  daytime  and  Little  Billee  did  not, 
he  would  play  for  some  time  running  up 
on  the  top  of  my  pillow,  then  down 
again,  hop  on  my  arm,  then  under  the 
sheet  until  he  found  my  hand;  back  he 
would  go  and  do  the  same  thing  over 
again.  When  he  became  tired  of  that, 
he  would  sit  on  my  chin  and  be  very 
loving,  kiss  me  in  the  mouth,  and  chirp 
away.  When  he  found  I  was  not  going 
to  open  my  eyes  or  speak  to  him,  he 
23 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

would  peck  and  bite  my  eyes,  nose,  ears, 
cheeks,  and  lips,  and  I  assure  you  they 
were  not  love  bites,  either.  Then  again, 
when  he  wanted  to  sit  on  my  shoulder 
and  I  preferred  he  should  sit  on  my 
hand,  he  would  fly  up  every  time  I  took 
him  down,  and  bite  hard  at  my  hand, 
and,  for  such  a  little  bird,  he  had  a  very 
big  bite  and  a  very  fierce  look. 

He  loved  to  visit  my  mother  in  her 
room,  and  was  very  happy  walking  all 
over  her  and  on  her  head,  but  she  was 
never  able  to  touch  him.  He  seemed  to 
have  eyes  all  over  his  head,  for,  no  matter 
how  careful  she  was,  he  always  saw  the 
finger.  He  thoroughly  enjoyed  my 
squeezing  him  in  my  hand,  and  kissing 
him  over  and  over  again. 

No  doubt,  long  ere  this,  my  readers 
have  been  wondering  what  kind  of  a  bird 
Little  Billee  was,  but  that  is  a  question 
which  has  not  yet  been  answered.  But 
I  loved  Little  Billee  so  dearly  that  it 
made  little  difference  to  me  what  his  na- 

24 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

tionality  was,  or  whether  his  ancestors 
came  over  in  the  JVI  ay  flower,  fought  in 
the  American  Revolution,  or  whether, 
like  Topsy,  he  "  just  growed."  It  was 
amusing  to  see  Little  Billee  the  first  time 
he  heard  the  piano.  One  morning  two 
friends  came  to  see  me,  and,  while  one 
of  them  played,  I  lay  on  the  sofa  with 
Little  Billee  cuddled  up  on  my  neck.  At 
first  he  was  very  much  afraid,  and  did 
not  know  what  to  make  of  the  music. 
Soon  he  became  charmed,  and  craned  his 
little  neck  way  out,  opened  his  bill,  as  if 
he  were  drinking  in  the  sound,  then 
reached  around,  kissed  me  in  the  mouth, 
snuggled  down  again  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  repeated  it  as  long  as  she  played. 

One  morning  I  saw  Little  Billee  lying 
on  the  floor  before  an  open  window  with 
his  neck  stretched  out  and  bill  wide  open. 
I  thought  he  was  dying,  picked  him  up, 
but  found  him  as  lively  as  ever.  When 
he  did  the  same  thing  over  again,  I 
understood  he  was  taking  a  sun  bath, 
25 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

and  from  then  on  he  took  one  every 
morning.  One  morning  it  was  quite  cold 
when  we  came  in  from  our  walk,  and  I 
sat  down  in  front  of  the  fire  with  Little 
Billee  on  my  knee.  It  was  amusing  to 
see  him  put  his  head  on  one  side,  open 
his  bill,  and  drink  in  the  warm  air.  For 
six  weeks  he  strongly  objected  to  taking 
a  water  bath,  and  I  really  suppose  he 
was  too  young  and  knew  best.  I  left  a 
little  dish  for  several  days  on  the  floor 
by  the  side  of  his  cage,  but  he  was  very 
careful  not  to  go  near  it.  One  morning 
everything  was  very  quiet,  I  on  my  bed 
and  Little  Billee  playing  about  the  room. 
Soon  he  went  to  the  dish,  looked  in  all 
four  corners,  came  back  to  the  first  one, 
put  his  bill  in  just  a  little  way,  then  went 
the  rounds;  did  it  all  over  again,  putting 
his  bill  in  a  little  farther,  and  shaking 
off  the  water.  After  debating  a  long 
time,  he  got  on  the  edge  of  the  dish,  put 
his  head  in  until  it  was  all  wet,  then 
screwed  up  all  his  courage  and  in  he, 

26*' 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

went.  Such  a  droll  little  figure  as  he 
cut,  standing  there  with  his  body  and 
head  held  as  high  as  he  could  get  them, 
his  wings  out  just  a  little,  not  knowing 
what  to  do  next.  All  I  could  think  of 
was  a  very  timid  child  going  in  wading 
for  the  first  time,  with  long,  thin  legs, 
very  short  frock,  and  arms  akimbo.  His 
fear  soon  left  him,  and  he  was  bathing 
like  an  old  stager.  When  he  finished, 
he  got  out,  gave  himself  two  or  three 
good  shakes,  then  came  over  to  the  bed, 
and  asked  me  to  take  him.  I  did  him 
up  in  my  handkerchief,  but  that  did  not 
suit  him  at  all.  I  could  not  do  anything 
with  him  until  I  let  him  get  on  my  bare 
neck,  and  covered  him  with  the  trimming 
of  my  dress.  He  was  soaking  wet,  and 
shivering  like  a  person  having  a  hard 
chill.  He  kept  very  still  until  his  feath- 
ers were  dry  enough  to  be  dressed. 
Such  shaking,  dressing  of  feathers,  and 
prinking  I  never  saw.  When  his  toilet 
was  made  to  suit  him,  he  nestled  down 
27 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

under  my  chin,  and  we  both  slept  for 
an  hour.  Every  day  we  went  through 
the  same  performance  after  the  bath. 
One  day  I  wanted  to  do  something  in 
my  dressing-room,  so  thought  Little 
Billee  could  take  his  bath  and  dry  him- 
self. 

Soon  I  began  to  hear  very  mournful 
peeps,  and  I  came  out  to  find  Little 
Billee,  soaking  wet,  standing  in  front  of 
my  bed,  thinking  I  was  there,  and  teas- 
ing for  me  to  take  him.  Of  course  I 
could  not  resist  such  pleading,  so  to  bed 
we  went.  I  know  I  completely  spoiled 
him,  but  he  was  such  a  dear  no  one  could 
help  it. 

Little  Billee  always  took  a  great  inter- 
est in  my  writing,  and  when  I  would  sit 
down  to  my  desk  he  was  always  on  my 
shoulder,  arm,  or  hand.  His  favourite 
place  to  sit  was  on  my  left  hand  between 
my  first  finger  and  thumb,  as  they  held 
my  portfolio  on  my  lap,  and  peck  at  my 
paper  and  pen.  One  day  he  took  the 

28 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

pen  full  of  ink  into  his  bill,  then  threw 
the  ink  all  over  my  paper.  He  had  great 
fun,  too,  in ,  taking  the  paper  off  from 
the  bottom  of  his  cage,  and  carrying  it 
all  about  the  room,  and  would  take  it  out 
as  fast  as  I  put  it  in.  One  day  he  went 
into  his  cage,  took  the  farthest  corner 
of  the  paper  in  his  bill,  backed  out,  bring- 
ing the  paper  over  his  head  until  it  was 
all  on  the  floor,  then  went  over  to  the 
opposite  corner,  took  that  in  his  bill, 
backed  off  the  paper  until  he  came  to 
the  end,  then  went  around  in  a  circle  like 
the  wind  for  perhaps  a  dozen  times,  with 
the  paper  perfectly  straight  out  just  like 
a  sail.  After  a  few  moments  I  put  the 
paper  back;  he  took  it  right  out  in  the 
same  way,  and  did  it  all  over  again. 

Another  day  he  would  not  come  to  me 
when  I  put  down  my  hand,  but  ran  across 
the  room.  After  trying  for  some  time  to 
make  him  mind,  I  got  up  and  said: 
"  Billee,  I  am  going  away  and  leave 
you,"  and  started  out  into  the  hall.  He 
* 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

came  chasing  after  me,  and  after  that 
would  always  do  it  when  I  told  him  I 
was  going  to  leave  him.  If  I  went  out 
of  my  room  and  told  him  he  must  not 
go,  he  would  sit  on  a  chair  by  an  open 
window,  or  play  about  on  the  floor  for 
an  hour,  and  never  think  of  flying  out 
of  the  window  or  going  out  of  the  door. 
I  succeeded  far  beyond  my  expecta- 
tions with  Taffy  and  Little  Billee.  It 
hurt  me  very  much  to  be  obliged  to  pun- 
ish Taffy  when  he  would  spring  at  Little 
Billee,  as  Taffy  and  I  had  been  devoted 
to  each  other  for  two  years;  still  I  did 
not  want  him  to  kill  my  baby  bird.  One 
day  Little  Billee  was  sitting  on  my  knee 
dressing  his  feathers  and  going  through 
all  sorts  of  antics,  while  Taffy  sat  a  few 
feet  away,  gazing  at  him  with  longing 
eyes.  I  called  to  my  maid  to  bring  Taffy 
and  hold  him  on  her  lap,  and  then  let 
Little  Billee  peck  and  bite  his  paws,  ears, 
and  nose,  and  a  more  astonished  cat  I 
never  saw.  After  we  let  Taffy  go,  he 

30 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

was  found  sitting  on  the  cellar  stairs  in 
a  most  dejected  way,  rubbing  his  nose 
with  his  paw.  For  several  days  we  did 
the  same  thing,  until  Taffy  was  afraid  at 
the  sight  of  Little  Billee.  One  morning 
Taffy  came  to  bed  with  me,  and  lay  on 
my  arm,  while  Little  Billee  sat  on  my 
shoulder.  Soon  Taffy  put  his  chin  on 
my  chin,  and  Little  Billee  came  and  sat 
close  to  my  cheek.  Finally  Taffy  became 
so  sleepy,  he  turned  over,  went  fast 
asleep,  and  Little  Billee  hopped  down 
on  his  back,  and  we  lay  that  way  for 
some  time.  Almost  every  day  after  that 
Taffy  would  lie  on  my  lap,  and  Little 
Billee  would  sit  on  his  head,  back,  or  on 
my  knee,  and  dress  his  feathers.  One 
day  Little  Billee  had  the  impertinence, 
while  I  had  them  both  on  my  lap,  to 
reach  out  and  peck  Taffy  in  the  eye. 
That  was  a  little  more  than  Taffy  could 
endure,  and  he  reached  out  his  paw  and 
struck  at  him.  I  could  not  get  Little 
Billee  to  go  near  him  for  over  a  week, 
31 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

when  they  became  very  good  friends 
again. 

Little  Billee  enjoyed  going  down  into 
the  parlours  to  see  visitors,  but  he  gave 
them  to  understand,  the  first  thing,  they 
might  look  but  not  touch.  He  would  en- 
tertain them  by  hopping  all  over  me, 
kissing  me  in  the  mouth,  and  chirping 
at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

When  it  began  to  get  dark,  Little 
Billee  did  not  want  to  be  off  from  me 
a  minute.  If  I  had  him  down-stairs,  and 
put  him  on  the  floor,  he  would  hop  and 
fly  after  me  from  room  to  room.  Once 
I  left  him  in  the  front  parlour  on  a 
plant- jar,  and  went  into  the  dining-room 
and  was  gone  some  little  time.  When 
I  came  back  there  was  no  Little  Billee 
to  be  found.  I  called  him  by  name  and 
peeped  to  him,  but  I  could  not  get  an 
answer.  As  I  went  up-stairs,  I  called: 
"Where  is  my  Little  Billee?"  And  he 
said:  "  Chirp,  chirp,  chirp,"  and  I  found 


32 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

him  in  my  room  eating  his  seeds  and  as 
happy  as  possible. 

From  then  on,  whenever  he  became 
tired  of  the  parlours,  he  would  go  up- 
stairs, for  he  seemed  to  think  my  room 
his  home.  One  day  I  watched  him  to 
see  how  he  went.  He  hopped  from  step 
to  step.  When  he  reached  the  top,  he 
flew  into  my  room  and  lighted  on  the 
top  of  his  cage. 

Sometimes  he  waited  for  me  at  the 
top  of  the  stairs,  lying  flat  down,  putting 
his  head  out  just  as  a  dog  does  his  be- 
tween his  paws. 

Little  Billee  certainly  was  not  colour- 
blind, for  he  noticed  every  little  change 
in  my  dress,  no  matter  how  slight  it  was. 
He  had  seen  me  for  weeks  in  only  my 
robe  de  nuit  and  wrapper.  It  was  piti- 
able to  see  him  the  first  time  he  saw  me 
gowned  in  a  white  skirt  and  blue  waist. 
I  had  to  lie  down  when  I  had  finished 
dressing,  and  Little  Billee  came  over 
to  the  bed  as  usual  and  asked  me  to  take 
33 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

him.  I  put  down  my  hand,  he  hopped 
on  my  finger,  but,  when  he  looked  up 
and  saw  the  blue  sleeve,  away  he  went 
as  if  he  had  been  shot  out  of  a  cannon. 
He  tried  several  times,  but  his  courage 
always  failed.  At  last  he  gave  up  and 
went  and  sat  in  a  chair  across  the  room, 
and  it  was  two  days  before  he  really  liked 
the  change. 

Next  I  tried  a  pink  waist  with  the 
white  skirt,  but  that  seemed  even  worse 
to  him,  which  seemed  very  strange,  as 
he  had  seen  me  for  days  in  a  pink  and 
white  wrapper. 

One  morning  in  November,  I  was  try- 
ing my  strength  by  doing  a  little  dusting, 
after  getting  Little  Billee's  cage  ready 
for  the  day.  He  was  unusually  happy 
and  lively,  but  thought  it  was  high  time 
we  went  back  to  bed,  so  kept  flying  from 
the  top  of  his  cage,  which  was  near  me, 
to  the  bed  and  back  again,  teasing  me 
to  go  with  him. 

He  was  always  afraid  of  anything 

34 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

white,  and,  not  thinking,  as  he  flew  back 
to  me,  I  picked  up  my  large  cheese-cloth 
duster  by  one  end  and  spread  the  rest 
out  like  a  flag.  The  window  and  blinds 
were  wide  open,  and  to  get  out  of  the 
way  of  the  cloth,  he  flew  out  the  win- 
dow, probably  not  having  the  least  idea 
where  he  was  going.  I  called  to  our  maid 
to  run  across  the  street  and  look  for  him, 
thinking  he  had  gone  that  way. 

After  she  had  looked  an  hour,  we  were 
told  of  a  little  brown  bird  that  had  been 
seen  in  the  next  yard  sitting  in  the  dry 
leaves.  They  said  he  seemed  very  tame, 
and  looked  as  if  he  expected  some  one 
to  come  and  pick  him  up.  We  were 
positive  that  it  was  our  lost  pet,  but  we 
could  not  find  any  further  trace  of  him. 

That  night  it  grew  very  cold  and 
rained  hard  until  morning,  and  we  have 
not  a  doubt  that  he  perished,  as  he  had 
always  been  used  to  his  nice  warm  basket. 

For  days  we  were  a  very  sad  house- 
hold, and  many  tears  were  shed. 
35 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 


CHAPTER    II. 

TAFFY   AND   TRICKSEY 

I  CAN  hardly  call  Taff y  a  patient,  as 
he  is  so  well  and  strong.  Perhaps  an 
attendant  would  be  more  suitable,  as  he 
is  always  in  the  hospital,  looking  after 
the  patients,  and  nothing  goes  on  that 
he  does  not  see,  but  Tricksey  is  suffering 
from  the  asthma. 

Taffy  is  the  largest  tiger  cat  I  have 
ever  seen,  and,  as  he  has  the  crook  in  his 
tail,  he  belongs  to  the  tabby  breed.  Taffy 
is  very  large,  usually  weighing  fourteen 
pounds,  but  .he  has  a  very  small  head 
and  very  small,  finely  shaped  paws.  The 
under  parts  of  them  look  like  black  velvet. 
In  colour  he  is  mostly  jet-black,  and 

36 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

the  other  fur,  very  much  like  a  raccoon's, 
light  tan  at  the  ends,  shading  into  yellow, 
then  into  drab.  As  the  sun  strikes  him, 
every  hair  seems  full  of  light,  and  he  is 
one  mass  of  iridescent  colours.  His 
marking  is  most  beautiful.  The  top  of 
his  head  is  black,  branching  out  into  five 
narrow  black  stripes  down  his  neck,  a 
black  stripe  three  inches  wide  (without 
one  light  hair)  going  all  the  way  down 
the  back  and  to  the  end  of  the  tail 
and  under;  of  course,  on  the  tail  the 
stripe  is  much  narrower.  Then  narrow 
black  stripes  go  down  each  side  of 
his  back  and  tail.  His  tail  is  not  long, 
but  very  bushy,  like  a  nice  boa.  I  never 
saw  more  exquisite  colouring  and  mark- 
ing than  Taffy  has  underneath,  from  his 
throat  to  his  tail.  His  coat  is  beautifully 
soft  and  thick,  and  shines  like  satin,  and 
his  eyes  are  very  green.  He  is  particular 
about  his  toilet,  but  insists  upon  my  help- 
ing him  to  keep  it  glossy.  His  own  comb 
is  kept  on  my  dressing-table,  and  he  asks 
37 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

me  to  comb  him  twice  a  day,  and  some- 
times oftener. 

I  can  tell  you  nothing  of  Taffy's  ante- 
cedents, as  I  found  him  one  morning  in 
our  back  yard  almost  starved  to  death, 
and  about  as  thick  through  the  body  as 
a  shingle.  At  first  I  thought  he  had 
dropped  from  heaven,  but  I  soon  learned 
from  his  sayings  and  doings  that  he  must 
have  been  quite  intimate  with  the  inmates 
of  the  lower  region.  I  tempted  him 
with  chicken,  but  it  was  some  little  time 
before  I  could  put  my  hand  on  him; 
and,  to  tame  any  animal,  you  must  be 
able  to  touch  it  with  your  hand.  After 
two  or  three  pats,  he  seemed  to  realize 
that  I  was  a  good  friend.  Soon  I  had 
him  in  the  house,  and  for  three  years 
we  have  been  devoted  to  each  other.  I 
have  had  a  great  many  cats,  but  never 
one  who  had  so  much  of  the  wild  animal 
in  him.  All  of  my  friends  said  I  never 
could  tame  Taffy,  and  it  was  many  weeks 
before  I  had  much  influence  over  him, 

38 


THE    BIRD   HOSPITAL 

and  I  never  feel  quite  sure  now  whether 
I  am  to  be  loved  or  scratched,  as  he  still 
has  the  temper  and  the  actions  of  a  tiger 
when  anything  goes  the  wrong  way. 

He  usually  lies  down  like  a  tiger,  with 
legs  straight  out  in  front,  tail  straight 
out  behind,  and  when  I  speak  to  him 
he  will  always  blink  his  eyes  and  speak 
to  me.  If  you  touch  him  in  passing, 
he  will  grab  at  your  feet  and  spit  and 
growl.  He  never  mews  when  he  wants 
anything  to  eat,  but  will  chase  me  or 
my  maid,  and  grab  at  our  feet.  If  he 
does  not  like  what  is  given  him  to  eat, 
he  will  walk  all  about  his  plate,  and 
scratch,  as  if  he  were  covering  it  up. 

I  am  the  only  one  Taffy  ever  shows 
much  affection  for,  but  to  me  he  is  very 
loving.  He  will  lie  as  long  as  I  will 
let  him  with  his  paws  about  my  neck 
and  head  on  my  shoulder.  If  he  is 
sound  asleep  anywhere,  and  I  begin  to 
read  aloud,  sing,  or  whistle,  he  will  get 
up  directly,  jump  on  my  lap,  put  his 
39 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

paws  about  my  neck,  his  face  close  to 
mine,  and  begin  to  purr.  As  he  always 
looks  very  pleasant,  I  flatter  myself  he 
likes  the  tone  of  my  voice. 

When  I  had  my  bird,  Little  Billee, 
it  would  make  Taffy  simply  furious  if 
I  put  him  out  of  my  room  and  closed  the 
door.  One  morning  he  was  so  ugly,  my 
maid  did  not  dare  open  the  door  to  come 
in. 

After  that,  when  I  wanted  him  to  go 
down -stairs,  I  had  my  maid  come  to  the 
bottom  of  the  stairs  and  call,  "  Taify!" 
then  there  was  never  any  trouble.  When 
he  is  in  a  tearing  rage,  I  can  always  quiet 
him  by  taking  tight  hold  of  his  paws, 
and  kissing  his  eyes.  I  have  told  all  of 
these  things  about  Taffy  so  my  readers 
will  appreciate  what  I  have  been  able  to 
do  with  him.  It  is  needless  to  say  that 
when  Little  Billee  went  away,  Taffy  was 
the  happiest  cat  in  town.  His  devotion 
increased  daily  to  me,  and  he  lived  in  my 


40 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

room,  only  going  down  to  get  something 
to  eat. 

I  think  by  this  time  you  are  very  well 
acquainted  with  Mr.  Taffy,  and  I  will 
present  Tricksey  to  you.  Of  all  the 
canary  birds  I  have  ever  seen,  Tricksey 
is  the  prettiest,  daintiest  little  bird  you 
can  possibly  imagine.  His  colour  is  light 
yellow,  with  a  much  deeper  shade  be- 
tween his  wings,  shading  into  almost  an 
orange.  His  wings  and  tail  are  white, 
with  just  a  line  of  yellow  on  some  of  the 
feathers.  His  eyes  are  unusually  large 
and  bright,  and  his  little  legs  and  claws 
are  very  pink,  and  so  slender  that  they 
do  not  look  strong  enough  to  support 
his  finely  shaped  body.  He  is  really  a 
very  superior  bird,  and  sings  like  an 
angel. 

Tricksey  had  never  been  out  of  his 
cage  when  he  came  to  me,  but,  before  I 
had  had  him  a  week,  he  came  out,  perched 
on  my  finger,  took  things  from  my  finger 
or  mouth,  would  kiss  me,  and  go  all  about 
41 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

my  room  on  my  finger,  and  very  soon 
went  all  about  the  house  with  me.  He 
was  very  fond  of  sweet  apple,  but  I 
never  let  him  have  it  inside  his  cage,  but 
made  him  come  to  me  for  it.  I  kept  a 
piece  in  a  little  dish  on  my  table,  and 
he  soon  found  out  where  it  was,  and 
would  help  himself  on  the  sly.  I  also 
kept  on  my  table,  in  a  little  china  cup, 
some  hemp  seed,  which  I  gave  to  Trick- 
sey  as  a  great  treat.  Every  time  I  would 
tap  on  the  cup  and  make  it  ring,  Trick  - 
sey  would  come  out  of  his  cage,  down 
from  a  picture-frame,  or  wherever  he 
was,  for  a  seed. 

One  day  he  had  had  his  one  hemp  seed, 
and  teased  for  more,  but  I  said,  "  No," 
and  he  went  flying  about  the  room,  hav- 
ing a  fine  time.  Soon  he  flew  back  on 
the  table,  hopped  over  to  the  cup,  gave 
it  two  or  three  taps  to  make  it  ring,  then 
hopped  on  to  the  top,  reached  down  and 
helped  himself  to  two  seeds. 

Tricksey  is  a  very  vain  little  bird,  and 

42 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

likes  nothing  better  than  to  go  over  on 
my  dressing-table,  walk  back  and  forth 
in  front  of  the  mirror,  or  sit  on  my  pin- 
cushion and  admire  himself. 

Tricksey  came  to  me  one  afternoon, 
and  Taffy  knew  nothing  of  his  arrival 
until  the  next  morning.  When  he  came 
up-stairs  and  saw  a  little  yellow  bird  in 
a  house  of  gold,  he  was  like  the  little 
girl's  Bunnie,  who  "  was  not  a  bit  afraid, 
but  awfully  much  surprised,"  when  she 
heard  firecrackers  for  the  first  time.  His 
eyes  were  like  balls  of  fire,  while  his 
mouth  opened  and  shut,  making  a  hissing 
sound,  and  his  tail  going  at  the  rate  of 
a  mile  a  minute.  He  walked  into  my 
room  like  a  wild  tiger,  with  an  air  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  If  this  is  Little  Billee 
come  back  dressed  in  yellow,  die  he 
must,"  and  sprang  at  the  cage.  I  took 
him  firmly  by  the  paws,  looked  straight 
into  his  big,  angry  eyes,  and  said  in  a 
soft,  firm  voice:  "  Taffy,  this  is  Trick- 
sey, and  he  is  not  to  be  eaten  or  hurt 
43 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

any  more  than  my  Little  Billee  who  went 
away."  I  let  go  of  his  paws;  he  walked 
out  of  my  room  and  down-stairs  without 
looking  back.  In  about  an  hour  I  looked 
out  into  the  hall,  and  there  sat  my  dear 
old  Taffy  on  the  top  step,  looking  very 
meek  and  wishful.  I  spoke  kindly  to 
him,  and  asked  him  to  come  in  and  see  his 
new  brother,  Tricksey.  After  a  few 
moments,  he  came  in  very  slowly  and 
went  behind  my  bed.  Soon  he  came 
from  under  the  valance  (the  cage  sat  on 
a  chair  and  I  in  front  of  it),  never 
looked  at  the  cage,  jumped  into  my  lap, 
put  his  paws  about  my  neck,  and  began 
loving  me.  I  took  him  to  bed  with  me, 
and  he  never  moved  until  Tricksey  began 
to  sing  in  a  most  delightful  way,  then 
he  looked  at  him  and  listened  very  in- 
tently. I  talked  to  him,  and  "  softed  his 
feathers,"  and  soon  he  snuggled  down  in 
my  arm  and  went  to  sleep.  When  he  got 
out  of  bed,  he  never  glanced  at  the  cage, 
but  went  directly  down-stairs,  and  I  felt 

44 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

I  had  made  a  good  beginning.  Every 
one  said  I  could  never  teach  Taffy  not 
to  catch  Tricksey,  and  the  reason  his  cat- 
ship  did  not  kill  Little  Billee  was  be- 
cause he  was  afraid  of  him  and  so  care- 
fully watched.  I  knew  there  was  not 
a  place  in  the  house  I  could  hang  the 
cage  where  Taffy  could  not  get  at  it  if 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  do  so.  Of  course, 
for  days  and  weeks  I  felt  anxious,  and 
did  not  mean  to  leave  them  alone  to- 
gether. I  never  turned  Taffy  out  of  my 
room.  If  he  went  up  to  the  cage  and 
put  up  his  paw,  I  would  say:  "  Taffy, 
you  must  not  put  your  paw  on  the  cage," 
and,  as  he  always  minds,  he  would  take 
it  right  down,  sit  by  the  cage,  and  I 
would  talk  to  him  kindly.  Fortunately, 
Tricksey  was  not  at  all  afraid  of  Taffy. 
Taffy  always  wears  a  yellow  satin  col- 
lar with  bells  all  around.  Often  I  would 
hear  him  coming  up-stairs  when  I  was 
lying  down,  and  I  would  keep  very  quiet 
to  see  what  he  would  do.  Sometimes  he 
45 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

would  come  over  to  the  cage,  look  at 
Tricksey  pleasantly,  then  lie  down  by  the 
fire  and  go  to  sleep;  more  often  he 
would  lie  down  without  even  looking  at 
him.  But  the  moment  he  heard  me  talk- 
ing to  Tricksey,  he  would  get  up  and 
come  to  me  to  be  petted,  and  I  always 
gave  him  a  great  deal.  One  day  when 
Taffy  was  in  another  room,  I  let  Trick- 
sey out,  and  tried  to  be  very  quiet.  I 
was  sitting  on  the  floor  with  Tricksey 
hopping  about  me.  Before  I  hardly 
knew  it,  Taffy  was  in  my  lap,  and  soon 
I  had  Tricksey  on  my  knee  eating  seeds. 
If  I  took  the  cage  on  my  lap  with  Trick- 
sey inside,  Taffy  would  immediately 
jump  up  and  crowd  in  between  the  cage 
and  me. 

Taffy  was  very  much  afraid  the  first 
time  he  saw  Tricksey  take  his  bath,  and 
ran  under  the  bed  and  peeped  out  from 
under  the  valance. 

One  morning  the  cage  sat  on  the  floor, 
and  Tricksey  was  ready  for  his  bath, 

46 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

when  Taffy  came  in  and  sat  close  to  the 
cage.  Tricksey  took  a  big  drop  of  water 
in  his  bill  and  threw  it  into  Taffy's  face. 
Taffy  moved  back  a  little,  and  looked 
all  about  to  see  where  it  came  from. 
While  he  was  looking,  Tricksey  went  into 
his  bath,  and  splashed  the  water  all  over 
Taffy's  face  in  a  very  roguish  way.  To 
say  Taffy  was  surprised  is  speaking 
mildly.  He  turned  to  me  with  an  angry 
cry  and  went  out  of  the  room.  The  next 
morning  the  same  thing  happened;  but, 
instead  of  going  out  of  the  room,  he 
went  on  the  other  side,  out  of  reach  of 
the  water,  but  where  he  could  see  all  that 
went  on. 

After  that,  he  became  so  interested  he 
did  not  mind  if  the  water  was  splashed 
all  over  his  face,  and  would  sit  as  close 
to  the  cage  as  he  could  get.  While 
Tricksey  was  eating  his  breakfast,  he 
would  lie  down  close  to  the  cage  and  go 
to  sleep.  As  I  previously  said,  I  never 
meant  to  leave  Taffy  in  the  room  with 
47 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

Tricksey,  but  he  was  often  there  hours 
before  I  knew  it.  When  I  found  him, 
he  was  always  asleep  in  front  of  the  cage 
or  by  the  fire. 

One  morning,  after  the  bath,  I  put  the 
cage  up  in  the  window.  Taffy  did  not 
seem  to  like  it  at  all.  He  looked  at  me 
most  wishfully,  and  began  talking  cat 
language,  and  I  knew  he  was  saying: 
"  Please  put  Tricksey  back  on  the  floor." 
I  did  so,  and  Taffy  began  to  purr,  lay 
down  with  his  back  close  to  the  cage, 
stretched  out,  and  went  to  sleep. 

He  had  been  lying  that  way  for  an 
hour  when  some  visitors  came.  It  seemed 
too  bad  to  disturb  Taffy,  so  I  left  him, 
and  thought  I  would  risk  it. 

Two  hours  passed  before  I  went  back, 
and  you  may  imagine  my  delight  when 
I  found  my  two  boys  (so  different  in 
colour,  size,  and  disposition)  as  happy  as 
two  kittens.  Tricksey  was  singing  mer- 
rily. Taffy  had  wakened,  changed  his 
position,  and  looked  as  if  he  felt  very 

48 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

proud,  being  left  to  take  care  of  his  small 
brother.  His  eyes  were  as  soft  as  velvet, 
and  he  spoke  to  me  in  a,  soft,  cooing 
tone.  Since  then  I  have  never  felt  there 
was  any  danger  in  leaving  them  together. 
I  regret  to  say  Tricksey  has  a  strong 
will  of  his  own,  and  almost  as  bad  a 
temper  as  Taffy. 

At  different  times  I  had  three  wee 
baby  birds  brought  in  to  me,  but  they  all 
died.  Tricksey  was  very  jealous  of  them, 
and  when  he  saw  me  feeding  them,  he 
would  become  very  angry,  beat  his  wings 
against  his  cage,  and  beg  for  me  to  let 
him  out.  One  day  I  put  one  of  the  little 
strangers  on  the  floor  and  let  Tricksey 
out.  He  flew  at  the  waif  and  tore  feath- 
ers out  of  the  top  of  his  head.  I  took 
the  poor  little  frightened  thing  in  my 
hand.  Tricksey  flew  on  my  finger  and 
pecked  him.  I  put  him  in  my  other  hand, 
and  Tricksey  flew  at  him  more  angry 
than  ever.  Then  I  put  him  on  the  floor, 
and  Tricksey  was  so  happy  he  flew  on 
49 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

my  head,  hopped  about  my  shoulders, 
and  kissed  me  in  the  mouth.  In  the 
middle  of  the  performance  in  walked 
dignified  Mr.  Taffy,  with  a  look  which 
plainly  said:  "  What  more  are  you  going 
to  bring  into  this  room? "  He  sat  by 
my  side  looking  at  the  newcomer,  and, 
before  I  knew  what  he  was  going  to  do, 
reached  out  his  paw,  and  gave  him  a 
good  slap,  which  sent  him  off  my  lap 
on  to  the  floor. 

Early  in  the  fall,  before  I  had  any 
fire  in  my  room,  I  would  bring  Tricksey 
down  in  the  morning  and  keep  him  until 
evening,  and  for  two  weeks  Taffy  never 
went  near  my  room  during  the  day,  but 
stayed  down  there  with  Tricksey.  The 
first  day  I  had  a  fire  in  my  room,  I  did 
not  bring  Tricksey  down  as  usual.  Af- 
ter I  gave  Taffy  his  luncheon,  I  missed 
him,  but  did  not  go  to  my  room  until 
five  o'clock,  and  there  was  faithful  Taffy 
sound  asleep  close  to  Tricksey 's  cage,  and 
now  he  stays  in  my  room  all  day.  He 

50 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

has  plainly  shown  that,  if  Tricksey  stays 
there,  he  stays,  too. 

I  find  that  animals  want  to  be  treated 
very  much  like  children.  The  more  in- 
telligent they  are,  the  easier  it  is  to  influ- 
ence them,  and  the  quicker  they  are  to 
read  you.  First  give  them  a  great  deal 
of  love  and  kindness,  always  be  firm, 
very  patient,  and  above  all  never  deceive 
them  in  the  most  trivial  thing. 


51 


THE    BIRD   HOSPITAL 


CHAPTER   III. 

DEWEY 

ONE  morning  my  mother  called  to  me, 
saying:  "Here  comes  Charlotte  with  a 
bird."  I  wondered  at  first  whether  my 
little  friend  was  bringing  me  another 
sparrow,  but,  when  I  saw  him,  I  could 
not  help  exclaiming:  "What  a  perfect 
beauty!"  And  the  way  he  cuddled  down 
in  my  hand  immediately  won  my  heart. 

He  was  straightway  named  Dewey, 
but  what  kind  of  bird  he  was,  I  never 
found  out.  Some  people  said  he  was  an 
oriole,  others  a  meadow-lark,  while  others 
not  a  meadow-lark,  but  some  kind  of  a 
lark.  Again  he  seemed  a  little  like  a 
blue  jay,  and,  in  fact,  had  points  like 
a  dozen  different  kinds  of  birds.  When 

52 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

he  was  first  brought  to  me,  he  was  evi- 
dently about  six  weeks  old,  quite  large 
and  fluffy,  but  very  much  of  a  baby,  for 
he  knew  nothing  about  feeding  himself. 
His  tail  was  long,  olive  on  top,  yellow 
underneath;  wings  black,  with  cream  col- 
our on  the  edges:  on  the  lower  feathers 
just  a  line,  on  the  upper  ones  quite  a 
little  wider,  at  the  top  short  yellow  feath- 
ers, making  lovely  little  scallops;  head 
and  back  olive-brown;  rump  more  on  the 
yellow,  with  a  tinge  of  blue  under  the 
wings,  and  belly  only  tinted.  As  he  grew 
older,  he  kept  changing,  and  when  nine 
months  old  his  breast  was  light  orange, 
belly  light  yellow,  head  and  back  deeper 
olive,  rump  deeper  yellow.  At  one  time 
he  broke  his  tail  off,  and  when  it  came 
in,  the  upper  feathers  were  black,  with 
yellow  a  quarter  of  an  inch  at  the  rump, 
while  the  under  feathers  were  yellow  and 
black.  On  his  head  were  almost  invisible 
stripes  of  black,  and  on  his  neck  pretty 
broken,  wavy  ones.  His  eyes  were  large 
53 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

and  bright,  and  his  bill,  so  every  one 
said,  was  the  handsomest  they  had  ever 
seen,  it  was  so  very  long,  and  pointed  as 
a  needle.  Underneath  it  was  ivory-white, 
and  on  top  black,  with  a  white  star  at 
the  head.  But  the  admiration  of  all  were 
his  legs  and  claws,  as  he  kept  them  so 
clean,  and  they  were  a  beautiful  blue, 
just  the  shade  of  malachite.  He  was 
seven  inches  long,  and  when  nearly  a  year 
old  began  getting  black  spots  over  his 
eyes  and  on  his  throat.  Now,  what  kind 
of  a  bird  was  he?  Do  you  know?  At 
any  rate,  I  know  he  was  a  little  rogue, 
and  an  imp  for  getting  in  mischief. 

When  he  was  given  me,  I  installed  him 
right  away  as  an  inmate  of  my  hospital, 
where  I  then  had  two  birds,  Tricksey,  a 
beautiful  canary,  and  Cervera,  a  dirt- 
coloured  sort  of  bird,  with  big,  staring 
eyes  and  a  bill  almost  as  large  as  his 
head,  which  was  perfectly  flat.  He  was 
about  the  size  of  the  canary,  but  only  had 
his  baby  feathers  and  one  tail  feather. 

54 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

Surely,  he  was  not  a  handsome  bird,  and 
I  could  not  blame  Dewey  for  never  liking 
him. 

When  night  came,  I  tried  putting 
Uewey  in  the  cage  with  Tricksey  and 
Cervera,  but  Cervera  pecked  at  him  so 
much,  and  made  poor  Dewey 's  life  so 
miserable,  I  had  to  take  Cervera  out,  and 
make  him  sleep  in  a  basket  by  himself. 
Tricksey  and  Dewey,  however,  became 
great  friends,  and  immediately  put  their 
wings  close  together  and  went  to  sleep. 

In  the  morning,  when  the  birds  were 
let  out  on  the  floor,  it  was  amusing  to  see 
Cervera  mimic  everything  Tricksey  did. 
If  Tricksey  took  a  drink,  Cervera  would, 
and  would  follow  everywhere  he  went. 
When  Dewey  saw  Taffy  coming  into 
the  room  for  the  first  time,  every  nerve 
quivered  with  fright,  as  he  did  not  know 
what  that  huge  striped  thing  with  shin- 
ing green  eyes  was.  Tricksey  stood  near 
Dewey,  and  I  feel  sure  he  whispered  in 
his  ear:  "  You  need  not  be  at  all  afraid; 
55 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

that  is  only  Taffy,  the  cat,  and  we  are 
the  best  of  friends,"  for  after  that  he 
never  had  the  least  fear  of  Taffy.  Taffy 
jumped  into  my  lap,  the  three  birds  stood 
on  the  table,  and  I  fed  them  by  turns 
their  bread  and  milk. 

I  soon  found  Dewey  was  a  great  mis- 
chief. One  morning  I  left  him  loose 
in  my  room,  and,  on  my  return,  what  a 
sight  greeted  my  eyes!  He  had  taken 
all  the  pins  and  anything  he  could  pick 
up,  and  thrown  them  on  the  floor.  He 
had  overturned  a  basket  filled  with  rib- 
bons and  lace;  some  of  the  ribbons  he 
had  left  on  the  floor,  while  with  others 
he  had  decorated  his  cage,  and  in  the  cage 
I  found  a  pair  of  heavy  sleeve  links, 
which  he  had  thrown  in  his  drinking-cup, 
while  on  the  floor  of  the  cage  were  two 
large  coral  hairpins,  two  shell  pins,  some 
studs,  and  another  pair  of  cuff-buttons. 

For  a  moment  I  stood  speechless,  then 
said:  "  You  rogue  of  a  bird,  how  shall  I 
punish  you? "  But  I  did  not  have  the 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

heart  to  punish  him,  and,  taking  him  in 
my  hand,  kissed  him  again  and  again. 

When  Tricksey  had  the  asthma  very 
badly,  sometimes  a  little  whiskey  on  some 
sugar  would  relieve  him.  It  was  funny 
to  see  Cervera  manreuvre  to  get  Tricksey 
off  the  perch,  so  he  could  eat  the  sugar 
and  whiskey  himself.  Tricksey,  however, 
I  am  sorry  to  say,  grew  worse  instead  of 
better,  and  one  morning  I  was  awakened 
early  by  his  hard  breathing.  I  took  him 
off  his  perch,  and  found  his  claws  ice- 
cold.  He  lay  in  my  hand  a  few  mo- 
ments, pitifully  gasping  for  breath,  then 
threw  back  his  pretty  head,  and  all  was 
over.  We  were  heart-broken,  and  shed 
many  tears,  for  we  were  powerless  to 
bring  back  to  life  that  little  bird  we  loved 
so  dearly. 

I  really  felt  sorry  for  Cervera.  I  be- 
lieve he  missed  Tricksey,  and  for  days 
seemed  to  be  looking  for  him.  One  eve- 
ning, like  a  flash,  he  flew  out  of  the 
window,  and  I  was  never  able  to  find  him 
57 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

again.  From  then  on,  I  could  give  more 
time  to  Dewey,  as  he  was  my  only  visitor 
left  in  the  hospital. 

One  day,  when  I  had  him  in  the  din- 
ing-room, I  gave  him  a  piece  of  sweet 
apple,  which  he  seemed  to  enjoy  im- 
mensely. The  next  morning  Dewey  was 
missing,  and  I  looked  for  him  every- 
where up-stairs,  as  he  had  never  gone 
down-stairs  by  himself,  but  he  was  no- 
where to  be  found.  At  last  I  happened 
to  go  down  in  the  dining-room,  and  there, 
quiet  as  a  mouse,  he  sat  on  the  sideboard, 
eating  his  fill  of  apple.  After  that, 
when  he  wanted  anything  down-stairs, 
he  went  for  it  himself. 

He  loved  grapes  better  than  any  other 
fruit,  and,  no  matter  where  he  was,  if  I 
only  said,  "  Dewey,  would  you  like  a 
grape?  "  he  would  fly  to  me,  light  on  my 
finger,  and  go  with  me  into  the  closet 
for  one.  One  morning  I  again  thought 
he  was  lost,  but  he  was  found  safely  in 
the  dark  closet  eating  a  grape.  When  he 

58 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

wanted  one,  he  would  hop  back  and  forth 
on  the  back  parlour  table,  then  on  top 
of  a  high-back  chair,  and  tease  until  one 
was  given  him.  He  liked  best  to  have 
me  hold  a  grape  in  my  right  hand,  while 
he  perched  on  my  left,  when  he  would 
suck  all  the  rich,  sweet  juice  next  the 
skin  first,  then  he  would  take  the  pulp 
over  on  a  table  and  knock  it  until  all 
the  seeds  came  out  before  he  ate  it. 

He  liked  flies,  too,  but  spiders  were 
his  especial  treat,  and  when  he  saw  me 
with  my  handkerchief  done  up  in  my 
hand,  he  seemed  to  know  what  was  inside, 
and  would  light  on  my  finger,  open  the 
handkerchief,  and  take  Mr.  Spider  out. 
He  liked  bananas,  too,  and  would  go  to 
the  fruit-dish  and  open  one  by  himself. 

Often  in  the  morning  at  breakfast,  he 
would  perch  on  the  plate  or  finger-bowl 
beside  me,  and  eat  his  bit  of  orange. 
Usually  I  had  my  orange  in  my  room, 
and  sometimes  Dewey  would  get  so  im- 
patient he  would  fly  over  to  the  bed,  back 
59 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

to  the  orange,  and  beg  me  to  get  up. 
He  always  took  a  drink  out  of  the  finger- 
bowl,  and  in  the  autumn,  although  he 
was  put  to  bed  by  five  o'clock,  at  seven 
he  would  be  awakened  and  taken  down 
to  the  dining-room  for  dessert. 

One  night  he  evidently  became  tired 
of  waiting,  and  by  himself  went  into  the 
dining-room  very  quietly.  We  heard  a 
great  splashing,  and  the  first  thing  we 
knew  he  had  plunged  into  a  finger-bowl 
and  was  having  a  bath  to  his  heart's  con- 
tent, soaking  everything  as  well  as  him- 
self. Of  course,  it  was  very  cunning, 
but,  after  he  had  done  it  for  three  nights, 
we  decided  two  baths  a  day  were  too 
much  for  him.  Dewey,  however,  had 
made  up  his  mind  that  if  he  could  not 
take  a  bath  in  the  finger-bowl  at  night, 
he  would  in  the  morning,  and,  as  he  re- 
fused to  go  near  his  old  bath-tub,  I  had 
to  give  in  to  him,  and  the  bowl  was  given 
him  for  his  own. 

It  is  surprising  how  few  children  have 

60 


DEWEY    READY    FOR    HIS    BATH 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

seen  a  bird  take  a  bath,  so  I  often  had 
little  visitors  come  in  to  see  Dewey  at 
his  ablutions.  One  afternoon  he  wanted 
a  second  bath  so  badly  that  he  went  into 
the  dining-room,  got  into  a  finger-bowl 
without  any  water,  and  positively  would 
not  get  out  until  water  had  been  put  in 
and  he  had  his  bath.  Just  to  try  him 
once,  I  put  the  bowl  on  the  floor  in  front 
of  Taffy,  but  it  did  not  bother  Dewey 
in  the  least;  in  he  went  just  the  same. 
There  was  a  bowl  of  Wandering  Jew 
on  the  dining-table,  and  several  times  he 
took  a  bath  in  the  centre  of  it.  It  was 
indeed  a  beautiful  picture,  but  when  I 
found  he  was  tearing  the  vine  to  pieces, 
I  decided  it  was  not  so  pretty,  and  I  gave 
Dewey  many  lectures  for  it;  but  he 
heeded  them  not,  and,  if  taken  away, 
would  walk  (for  he  could  walk  as  well 
as  hop)  all  over  -the  table  on  the  ends 
of  his  toes,  and  look  everywhere  but 
toward  the  bowl.  Then,  when  no  one 
was  looking,  he  would  grab  a  piece  of 
61 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

the  Wandering  Jew  and  fly  with  it  to 
the  top  of  a  picture.  One  day  he 
trimmed  all  the  pictures,  and  there  was 
none  left  in  the  bowl,  so  after  that  he 
had  to  look  for  new  mischief. 

The  next  day  he  could  not  be  found 
for  a  long  while,  and  where  do  you  sup- 
pose I  at  last  found  him?  Sitting  in  the 
midst  of  some  huge  white  chrysanthe- 
mums. If  he  had  been  sitting  there 
quietly,  no  harm  would  have  been  done, 
but  the  imp  had  been  busy  every  minute, 
looking  for  delicious  black  bugs,  and  to 
get  them  he  was  obliged  to  tear  out  all 
the  petals. 

Once  he  tasted  some  wine,  and  liked  it 
so  well  that  whenever  any  one  came  in 
and  had  some  cake  and  wine,  he  would 
fly  down  on  their  plate,  take  a  bite  of 
cake,  hop  up  on  the  wine-glass  and  take 
a  sip  of  wine.  In  the  autumn  we  had 
some  very  fine  cider,  and  whenever  any 
one  came  in,  we  would  offer  them  some. 
One  day  Dewey  saw  some  on  the  lunch- 

62 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

eon-table,  and,  hopping  on  the  edge  of 
the  glass,  took  a  taste.  One  taste  did 
not  seem  enough  for  him,  however,  and 
he  liked  it  so  well  that  after  that  I  gave 
him  some  each  day  in  a  whiskey  glass. 
He  was  a  regular  little  gourmand,  and 
liked  all  kinds  of  fresh  fruit  and  pre- 
serves, but  wine  jelly  and  whipped  cream 
was  the  best  of  all. 

Sometimes  I  used  to  take  him  down 
to  dinner  with  me,  when  I  would  give 
him  his  own  little  table-cloth,  and  have 
a  plate  for  him  by  my  side.  He  would 
usually  take  a  little  of  everything,  and 
chicken  and  cranberry  jelly  seemed  espe- 
cially to  tickle  his  palate.  Sometimes  he 
did  not  behave  very  well,  and  he  .would 
go  tiptoeing  across  the  table  to  my  moth- 
er's plate,  hop  on  the  edge,  and  see  if  she 
had  anything  he  liked.  When  dinner  was 
ready  to  be  served,  he  would  often  fly 
over  to  the  sideboard,  make  holes  in  all 
the  butter  balls,  then  he  would  take  some 
mashed  potato  and  boiled  onions  and  put 
63 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

them  to  cool  in  a  big  hole  he  had  made 
in  an  apple. 

Few  people  know  that  birds  are  ever 
sick  to  their  stomachs.  Dewey  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  eating  a  little  shaved 
hickory-nut,  that  was  put  in  a  half -shell 
and  kept  in  a  dish  on  the  back  parlour 
table.  When  he  came  down-stairs,  he 
would  usually  take  a  taste,  and  it  seemed 
to  agree  with  him.  For  a  change  one 
day,  I  gave  him  some  chestnut,  and  when 
I  came  in  the  room  a  little  later,  I  found 
him  huddled  up  in  a  corner,  trying  to 
go  to  sleep.  As  soon  as  I  saw  him,  I 
knew  he  was  not  well,  for  he  never 
acted  that  way  in  the  daytime.  I  put 
him  back  in  his  cage,  and  sat  down  be- 
side him.  He  would  close  his  eyes  and 
open  his  bill,  and  I  thought  he  was  dying 
until  all  of  a  sudden  he  opened  his  bill 
very  wide,  and  out  came  the  chestnut  in 
a  lump  half  an  inch  long  and  one-quarter 
wide. 

My  writing-desk  was  a  favourite  place 

64 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

of  his.  He  would  get  into  the  drawers, 
pigeonholes,  and  ink,  and  pictures  and 
all  sorts  of  small  things  he  would  throw 
on  the  floor.  Once  he  stole  several  dimes 
and  pennies,  and  he  could  lift  a  silver 
dollar,  and  often  would  carry  a  coffee- 
spoon  all  about  the  room,  so  you  see  he 
had  a  very  strong  bill. 

If  anything  was  lost,  I  always  blamed 
it  on  Dewey.  One  day  I  looked  high  and 
low  for  my  thimble.  I  asked  Dewey 
where  it  was;  he  pretended  not  to  hear 
me,  but,  as  I  was  going  into  my  dress- 
ing-room, he  dropped  it  down  on  my 
head  from  the  top  of  the  portiere.  He 
would  often  perch  on  a  basket  on  top 
of  the  bookcase  in  the  writing-room. 
One  day  I  left  a  new  white  veil  there, 
and  when  I  went  to  look  for  it,  I  found 
Dewey  had  improved  it  greatly  in  his 
own  estimation.  There  were  about  ten 
little  holes  right  in  the  front  of  it,  some 
round  and  some  star  shaped. 

As  he  grew  older,  he  would  not  sleep 
65 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

in  his  cage.  For  a  few  nights  he  insisted 
on  sleeping  on  the  brass  rod  at  the  head 
of  the  bed,  then  changed  to  the  top  of 
the  curtain,  where  I  put  a  piece  of  soft 
flannel  over  some  cotton  on  the  ledge 
and  on  the  wall,  so  he  would  not  take 
cold.  If  it  was  very  cold,  he  would  go 
behind  the  frill  of  the  curtain  out  of 
every  one's  sight,  but,  if  it  was  warm, 
he  would  turn  around  so  his  tail  would 
hang  over  the  outside.  When  I  would 
come  in  in  the  evening,  he  would  open 
his  eyes  and  nod  to  me,  and,  if  not  too 
sleepy,  would  come  down  and  sit  on  my 
hand.  He  would  never  chirp  or  peep, 
and  when  he  hid  and  heard  me  call, 
"  Dewey,  Dewey,"  he  would  not  answer, 
but  would  fly  down  on  my  head,  shoulder, 
or  hand. 

Taffy  often  would  get  very  angry  with 
him,  and  sometimes  I  know  he  felt  like 
killing  him.  Dewey  would  wake  up 
early  in  the  morning,  and  take  his  ex- 
ercise by  flying  back  and  forth  from  a 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

picture  on  one  side  of  the  room  to  the 
head  of  the  bed.  When  Taffy  was  on 
the  foot  of  it,  he  would  fly  very  low, 
almost  touching  him  with  his  wings,  as 
much  as  to  say:  "You  lazy  cat,  why 
don't  you  wake  up  and  hear  the  little 
birds  sing  to  God  Almighty?  Why  don't 
you  wake  up?  "  Taffy  would  reply  in 
words  of  his  own  that  are  not  used  in 
polite  society,  and  the  next  thing  I  would 
see  his  tail  disappearing  around  the  cor- 
ner of  the  door. 

Before  Dewey  went  to  sleep  at  night, 
he  would  exercise  again.  One  afternoon 
Taffy  was  trying  to  take  a  nap  in  a 
chair  in  the  back  parlour.  Dewey  kept 
flying  over  him,  making  a  whizzing 
sound  with  his  wings.  When  Taffy 
could  endure  it  no  longer,  he  went  into 
the  writing-room  and  sat  down  by  me. 
Dewey  came  in  and  perched  on  the  table 
to  have  a  little  luncheon.  Taffy  stood 
up  on  his  hind  legs,  reached  out  a  vel- 
vet paw,  and  gave  Dewey  such  a  slap 
67 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

he  fell  on  to  the  floor.  The  bird  was 
not  hurt  in  the  least,  but  flew  up  on  the 
picture,  and  seemed  to  laugh  at  the  pun- 
ishment and  scolding  Mr.  Taffy  got. 
Taffy  did  not  take  his  punishment  with 
the  best  of  grace,  and  there  were  many 
naughty  words  he  said,  while  he  scratched 
and  bit,  but  at  last  he  was  conquered, 
and  after  that  always  behaved  like  a  little 
gentleman  toward  Dewey. 

The  first  time  he  saw  the  snow,  Dewey 
seemed  wild  with  delight,  and  flew  to 
the  window,  trying  to  catch  the  pretty 
white  flakes,  but  when  he  heard  sleigh- 
bells,  they  seemed  to  strike  terror  to  his 
heart,  as  I  suppose  he  thought  a  whole 
army  of  cats  was  coming,  as  all  he  knew 
about  bells  were  those  on  Taffy's  collar. 

At  one  time  I  was  ill,  and  had  to  send 
for  a  physician  whom  Dewey  had  never 
seen.  When  the  doctor  came  up-stairs, 
Dewey  hid  behind  the  curtain,  watching 
him  intently  as  he  fixed  the  white  powder 
in  a  paper.  When  the  doctor  laid  it  on 

68 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

the  table,  down  swooped  Dewey,  grabbed 
it,  and  flew  with  it  to  his  cage.  My 
mother  at  this  time  was  ill  for  many 
weeks,  and  it  kept  Dewey  busy,  as  he 
would  carry  off  all  her  sleeping  powders. 
One  day  he  put  them  behind  her  bed, 
evidently  thinking  that  there  they  would 
not  taste  so  badly  and  do  her  just  as 
much  good.  He  would  always  watch 
the  doctor  intently,  as  he  mixed  the  medi- 
cine, and  Dewey  seemed  to  think  it  great 
fun  peering  into  the  tiny  little  bottles 
in  the  medicine-case.  He  would  stand 
on  the  ends  of  his  toes  and  crane  his  neck 
to  watch  him  drop  the  medicine  into  the 
tumblers. 

Dewey's  end  came  at  last,  however, 
in  a  tragic  manner.  Some  Christmas 
roses  were  brought  in  to  me  one  day,  and 
they  looked  so  tempting  to  Dewey  that 
he  took  several  bites  from  them,  and  the 
next  day  took  some  more.  He  acted 
queer  after  that,  and  kept  opening  his 
bill.  I  thought  he  had  something  in  his 
69 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

throat,  and  gave  him  some  water,  which 
seemed  to  help  him  for  the  time  being. 
The  next  afternoon  I  found  him  panting 
on  the  floor.  I  took  him  to  an  open  win- 
dow, gave  him  some  wine,  and  the  attack 
seemed  to  pass,  and  apparently  he  was 
as  well  as  ever  when  I  went  down  to 
dinner  that  night.  When  I  returned  to 
my  room  late  in  the  evening,  there  was 
no  bird  to  greet  me  from  the  curtain. 
I  looked  on  the  floor,  and  there  lay  my 
darling  Dewey  stiff  and  cold. 


70 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 


CHAPTER    IV. 

TRINATA 

ONE  Sunday  in  June  a  small  bird  a 
good  deal  like  a  sparrow  flew  into  Trin- 
ity Church.  He  flew  down  the  centre 
aisle,  and,  evidently  drawn  to  it  by  the 
light,  perched  on  the  brass  cross  under- 
neath the  exquisite  chancel  window. 
When  the  choir  began  to  sing,  he  joined 
in  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  then  flew  over 
to  the  bishop's  chair,  peeping  and  chatter- 
ing away,  making  himself  as  conspicuous 
as  possible.  Of  course,  like  anything 
new  in  church,  he  took  all  the  attention 
of  the  congregation  from  the  minister. 
From  the  bishop's  chair,  he  quickly  flew 
on  a  girl's  shoulder,  who  caught  him  in 
71 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

her  hand,  and  put  him  on  the  stone  steps 
outside  the  door.  Here  the  little  trav- 
eller was  picked  up  by  another  little  girl, 
taken  to  Sunday  school  with  her,  and 
finally  was  brought  to  me. 

The  poor  bird  was  almost  famished, 
and  I  hurried  him  up  to  my  hospital, 
which  at  that  time  had  but  one  patient, 
Theodore  Roosevelt,  a  wild  pigeon  who 
had  been  badly  burned  by  an  electric 
wire.  I  gave  him  crackers  and  milk 
(it  is  better  for  little  birds  than  bread 
and  milk,  and  easier  to  swallow),  and, 
when  he  had  had  his  fill,  he  tried  to  tuck 
his  head  under  his  wing  and  go  to  sleep. 
This  he  had  to  give  up,  as  he  had  a  large 
head,  but  few  feathers,  and  small  wings, 
but  he  nestled  up  in  my  hand  and  was 
soon  fast  asleep. 

He  was  not  a  handsome  little  fellow, 
in  fact,  he  was  very  homely.  Some 
thought  him  an  English  sparrow,  but 
I  doubt  whether  he  was,  as  they  are  all 
so  timid,  and  he  was  far  from  that,  al- 

72 


THE    BIRD   HOSPITAL 

ways  wilful,  and  did  just  about  as  he 
pleased. 

All  day  he  stayed  on  my  finger  or 
dress,  and  when  it  began  to  grow  dark, 
he  discovered  the  negligee  I  had  on  was 
open  at  the  throat,  and  a  fine  place  to 
crawl  into.  I  rocked  him  to  sleep  that 
night,  and  always  after  that  he  would 
not  stay  in  his  basket  at  night  one  minute 
unless  I  first  rocked  him  to  sleep  on  my 
bare  neck. 

Don't  you  think  Trinata  a  pretty 
name?  I  gave  that  to  him  as  he  went 
to  service  at  Trinity  Church.  Every  one 
said  he  did  not  know  his  name,  but  I 
thought  he  did.  After  he  had  been  in 
the  hospital  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  he 
ran,  or  rather,  flew,  away.  I  had  been 
trying  to  sew,  and  could  not  keep  him 
off  me.  He  would  crawl  into  the  palm 
of  my  right  hand,  and  did  not  seem  to 
care  how  hard  I  squeezed  him,  then  into 
the  left,  and  did  not  mind  a  prick  or  two 
from  the  needle.  I  saw  the  sewing  did 
73 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

not  make  much  headway,  so  finally  I 
gave  up  and  started  to  take  my  work 
down-stairs.  I  closed  the  door,  or  else 
he  would  have  flown  right  after  me,  but 
I  forgot  the  blinds  were  wide  open  in 
my  dressing-room.  He  evidently  went 
in  there,  and  the  temptation  to  fly  out 
was  too  much  for  him. 

On  my  return  to  my  room,  I  looked 
everywhere,  and  had  given  up  all  hopes 
of  ever  seeing  him  again,  when  I  spied 
three  birds  down  the  street,  two  large 
ones  and  a  small  one,  which  looked  sus- 
piciously like  Trinata.  When  I  got  near 
enough,  I  began  to  peep,  and  the  large 
ones  flew  away,  but  the  little  one  went 
hopping  along,  and  when  within  a  few 
feet  I  called  out  "  Trinata,  Trinata." 
He  turned  in  an  instant  and  stopped.  I 
put  out  my  finger  and  he  hopped  on. 
It  was  noontime,  and  the  street  was  full 
of  people,  who  looked  with  wondering 
eyes  to  see  a  wee  bird  in  the  middle  of 
the  street  hop  on  my  fingers.  It  proved 

74 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

he  knew  his  name,  at  any  rate,  and  I  was 
so  glad  to  get  him  back  that,  instead  of 
scolding,  I  was  only  too  glad  to  give 
him  something  to  eat  and  rock  him  to 
sleep.  He  was  a  forlorn-looking  mite, 
all  mud  and  grass  stain,  and  so  tired  and 
faint  that  he  could  hardly  perch.  I 
think  he,  too,  was  glad  to  get  back,  for 
he  never  ran  away  again. 

One  evening  a  little  boy  and  girl  came 
rushing  to  me  with  two  filthy  baby  spar- 
rows. Their  legs  and  claws  were  so  en- 
crusted with  "  smelly "  mud  they  could 
not  hop.  So  the  first  thing  was  to  get 
as  much  off  as  possible  before  they  could 
be  put  to  bed,  and  in  the  morning  I  gave 
them  a  bath  in  violet  water,  after  which 
Jack  and  Jill,  for  so  I  named  them, 
looked  far  better,  and  Jack  turned  out 
to  be  a  perfect  beauty. 

Trinata  became  rather  jealous  of  them, 

and  one  day,  when  Jack  and  Jill  were 

close  together  on   my  chest,   he   hopped 

down  upon  my  shoulder,  wedged  himself 

75 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

in  between  them,  and  pecked  at  them 
until  they  flew  way.  Teddy  Roosevelt, 
the  pigeon,  as  was  right,  lived  in  the 
executive  mansion,  but  Trinata  did  not 
stand  at  all  in  awe  of .  him.  He  went 
in  to  see  him  quite  often,  and  made  his 
presence  known  by  nipping  his  toes  or 
pulling  his  tail  feathers.  Teddy,  how- 
ever, did  not  like  it,  and  often  he  would 
drive  Trinata  out. 

Jill  was  very  much  in  love  with  Jack, 
and  usually  would  do  anything  he  told 
her,  but  one  day  she  thought  she  would 
coquette  a  little  and  not  mind.  Jack 
tried  his  best  to  get  her  to  come  inside 
the  cage,  but  she  paid  not  the  slightest 
attention  to  him.  At  last  he  went  to  the 
open  door,  took  her  by  the  wing,  and 
pulled  her  inside  just  as  a  mother  would 
take  a  child.  We  all  thought  it  very 
cunning;  but  the  next  day,  when  Tri- 
nata seized  Jill  by  the  leg,  and  dragged 
her  way  across  the  floor,  I  thought  it  a 


76 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

bit  too  much,  and  gave  Trinata  the  good 
scolding  he  deserved. 

Jack  and  Jill,  however,  were  really 
most  annoying  to  Trinata,  chasing  after 
him,  screeching,  and  opening  their  bills 
very  wide,  just  as  if  he  was  their  mother 
and  would  drop  some  goodies  in.  One 
day  he  was  perched  on  the  window-sill 
of  the  executive  mansion,  when  up  came 
Jack  and  Jill  with  gaping  mouths.  In 
turning  to  go  away,  Trinata  saw  on 
Teddy's  floor  a  piece  of  court-plaster 
that  had  come  off  from  his  wing.  Tri- 
nata picked  it  up  and  dropped  it  in 
Jack's  mouth.  He  spit  it  out,  and  then 
the  tender  morsel  was  thrust  down  Jill's 
throat  by  Trinata.  After  that  they  never 
begged  him  to  feed  them. 

Most  birds  get  used  to  certain  dresses 
that  a  person  wears,  and  usually  are 
frightened  when  they  see  them  in  any- 
thing else,  but  Trinata  was  never  afraid. 
Once  I  put  on  a  large  hat  covered  with 
pink  roses,  thinking  surely  that  would 
77 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

frighten  him,  but  he  only  tucked  his  head 
under  his  wing  and  went  to  sleep  on  my 
shoulder.  Another  time  I  put  a  rustly 
silk  skirt  over  my  head  when  he  was  on 
top,  but  not  an  inch  did  he  budge.  When 
dressing,  he  would  often  get  inside  my 
waist,  and  I  would  fasten  it  up,  leaving 
just  enough  room  for  him  to  stick  out 
his  head.  He  did  not  mind  soap  and 
water  in  the  least,  and  very  often  would 
perch  on  me  while  I  was  taking  my 
morning  bath,  keeping  up  an  incessant 
chatter  through  it  all.  He  delighted  in 
visitors,  and  would  light  on  their  hands 
without  the  least  sign  of  fear,  and  one 
day  he  tried  to  perch  on  a  gentleman's 
bald  head,  but  found  it  too  slippery. 
Children  all  loved  him,  for  he  was  not 
at  all  exclusive,  and  would  let  them 
handle  him  all  they  wished. 

The  rougher  I  played  with  him  the 
better  he  liked  it,  and  I  would  throw 
him  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  but  he 
would  be  back  on  me  quicker  than  a 

78 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

flash.  I  do  not  believe  many  birds  help 
make  the  bed  in  the  morning,  but  Tri- 
nata  used  to  try  to,  and  seemed  to  think 
it  great  fun.  He  would  fairly  run  from 
bottom  to  top  and  back  again,  never 
minding  if  sheets  and  blankets  were 
thrown  over  him.  When  the  day  spread 
was  put  on,  he  was  told  to  keep  off,  but 
he  seldom  obeyed,  and  would  play  a  long 
time  trying  to  pick  up  the  embroidered 
pink  flowers. 

At  that  time  two  or  three  birds  were 
brought  into  the  hospital  nearly  every 
day.  Some  died  from  wounds,  and  some 
from  starvation  when  I  was  unable  to 
make  them  eat.  One  day  I  had  a  forlorn 
baby  sparrow,  a  dainty  yellowbird  (not 
much  larger  than  a  bumblebee) ,  and  two 
baby  Baltimore  orioles.  When  night 
came,  I  felt  like  the  old  woman  who 
lived  in  her  shoe,  for  I  had  so  many 
birds  I  didn't  know  what  to  do. 

I  could  not  supply  them  all  with  sep- 
arate baskets,  so  I  took  a  large  round  one, 
79 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

all  gilded,  and  filled  it  with  cotton,  then 
made  little  indentations  so  it  looked  like 
many  little  cots.  First  the  strangers 
were  put  in,  next  Jack  and  Jill,  and  they 
all  lay  quietly,  but,  when  it  came  to 
Trinata,  there  was  a  row.  He  evidently 
had  no  intention  of  sleeping  with  that 
motley  crowd,  and  would  not  stay  in  one 
second.  He  knew  his  own  basket,  and 
would  never  sleep  in  any  other,  or  have 
any  bird  sleep  with  him.  In  the  morn- 
ing one  of  the  orioles  was  dead,  but  an- 
other a  year  old  came  to  take  its  place. 
He  was  a  beauty,  but  had  been  shot  by 
some  cruel,  wicked  boy.  One  wing  was 
broken,  so  he  could  never  fly  again,  and 
he  had  a  bad  sore,  so  for  days  I  thought 
he  could  not  live,  but  careful  attention 
brought  him  out  all  right.  I  named  him 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  the  other  oriole 
the  Princess,  who  turned  out  to  be  the 
biggest  mischief  you  can  imagine. 

About  that  time  a  dear  little  chipmunk 
(whom  I  named  McKinley)  came  to  the 

80 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

hospital,  and  his  life  was  made  miserable 
by  the  Princess.  She  would  steal  his 
food,  examine  his  eyes,  ears,  nose,  and 
mouth  with  her  long  bill,  and,  when  he 
would  not  be  looking,  would  give  his 
tail  a  good  pull. 

The  morning  of  the  Fourth  of  July 
was  intensely  warm,  so  I  moved  all  the 
birds  into  the  hall,  where  it  was  cooler. 
Trinata  was  put  by  himself,  because  if 
he  was  shut  up  in  a  cage  with  Jack  and 
Jill,  he  would  amuse  himself  by  pecking 
them  and  not  letting  them  get  on  any 
of  the  perches.  If  they  would  try,  he 
would  lift  them  up  by  the  feathers  of 
their  heads,  then  throw  them  down  on 
the  bottom  of  the  cage.  Jack  and  Jill, 
then,  were  put  in  a  cage  with  the  Prince 
and  Princess,  and  they  all  looked  very 
sleepy  when  I  darkened  the  hall  and  went 
out.  Few  people  who  keep  birds,  and 
especially  wild  ones,  know  that  they  like 
to  be  in  the  dark  during  the  middle  of 


81 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

the  day,  and  it  simply  ruins  a  canary  to 
be  left  in  the  sun  all  day  long. 

You  may  imagine  my  surprise  when  I 
returned  to  the  hall  an  hour  later  to  find 
the  Prince  in  the  cage  alone.  One  of  the 
birds  had  pried  open  the  place  where  a 
food-dish  had  been,  and  Jack,  Jill,  and 
the  Princess  had  gone  through  the  shut- 
ter. The  Prince  probably  realized  he 
could  not  fly,  so  stayed  at  home.  I  never 
found  any  trace  of  Jack  and  Jill,  but, 
after  looking  an  hour,  located  the  Prin- 
cess. I  had  only  had  her  about  a  week, 
and  did  not  think  she  knew  her  name. 
As  soon  as  she  heard  my  voice,  she  an- 
swered, but  was  afraid  to  come  down, 
as  there  were  so  many  boys  with  fire- 
crackers in  the  street.  "Finally  she  was 
frightened  to  the  top  of  a  very  tall  tree, 
where  some  robins  chased  her,  and  she 
flew  blocks  away.  A  hard  thunder- 
storm came,  and  the  rain  fell  in  such 
torrents  that  I  was  sure  I  had  seen  the 
last  of  my  pretty  Princess.  After  hav- 

82 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

ing  her  liberty  for  hours,  I  thought  I 
heard  her  voice  in  the  next  street.  I 
went  to  the  open  window  and  called, 
"  Princess."  She  answered,  and  every 
time  I  called,  the  answer  came  nearer. 
Soon  I  saw  her  fly  across  the  street  and 
light  on  the  roof  of  a  house.  I  hurried 
over  and  held  my  hand  as  high  as  I  could, 
when  down  she  fle.w  and  lighted  on  my 
finger.  I  think  it  marvellous,  her  com- 
ing back,  especially  as  she  had  been  gone 
over  four  hours. 

Taffy  grew  more  and  more  jealous  of 
Trinata  every  day,  probably  not  liking 
it  that  I  kept  him  with  me  so  much  of 
the  time.  He  insisted  upon  staying  in 
the  hospital  all  day,  and  often  there 
would  be  nine  or  ten  birds  loose  in  the 
room.  Frequently  he  would  be  there 
hours  before  I  knew  it,  and  then  I  would 
not  know  if  I  did  not  happen  to  hear 
the  bells  on  his  collar.  Then  I  would  lift 
up  the  valance  of  the  bed  and  find  him 
stretched  out  full  length,  looking  as 
83 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

happy  and  lamblike  as  though  there  was 
not  a  bird  anywhere  near.  One  day  a 
lady  saw  him  trying  to  catch  a  bird  in 
the  street,  and  she  called  out:  "  You 
silly  cat,  why  don't  you  go  up-stairs 
where  there  is  a  room  full  of  them?  " 
He  would  never  pay  the  slightest  atten- 
tion to  the  birds  until  I  would  come  m 
the  room,  and  Trinata  would  light  on 
me.  Then  he  would  come  up  to  me, 
wave  his  tail,  and  seem  consumed  with 
jealousy. 

One  evening  when  he  saw  Trinata  on 
me,  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  contain 
himself  any  longer.  He  was  like  a  wild 
tiger  fresh  from  the  jungle.  I  could 
not  pacify  him,  so  sent  him  down-stairs. 
At  dusk  I  stood  in  my  dressing-room 
door  and  saw  Taffy  sneak  under  my  bed. 
I  was  called  down  suddenly  and  forgot 
him.  When  I  went  back  a  few  moments 
later,  I  missed  Trinata  at  once.  When 
I  could  not  find  him,  I  remembered 
Taffy,  and  rushed  down  to  look  for  him. 

84 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

He  came  up  from  the  cellarway  looking 
pleasant  and  happy.  I  took  him  directly 
up  to  my  room  and  asked  him  about 
his  little  brother,  Trinata.  He  rubbed 
against  me,  purred,  and  the  fierce  tiger 
had  all  left  him.  I  took  him  down  and 
said:  "  Taffy  has  not  taken  Trinata, 
for  he  never  looks  or  acts  like  this  when 
he  is  guilty."  In  a  few  moments  I  was 
called  out  on  the  back  stoop,  and  there 
sat  Taffy  with  Trinata's  mangled  re- 
mains before  him.  When  he  saw  me, 
he  began  to  cringe  and  crouch,  and  there 
was  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  his  guilt. 
I  never  knew  him  to  eat  a  bird  before, 
and  I  feel  sure,  when  he  heard  me  calling 
him,  he  swallowed  Trinata  almost  whole, 
thinking  I  would  never  find  out  where 
he  went,  and  of  course  it  made  him 
deathly  sick.  Late  that  evening  he  came 
into  my  mother's  room.  First  he  stood 
in  the  door.  I  did  not  notice  him.  He 
kept  coming  nearer  and  nearer,  and 
finally  jumped  into  my  lap,  putting  both 
85 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

paws  about  my  neck,  and  began  loving 
me.  For  days  he  was  in  disgrace,  and 
for  two  months  he  never  entered  my 
room. 

He  hated  Trinata  out  of  pure  jealousy 
of  me,  so  killed  him.  He  has  never 
noticed  the  other  birds  since,  and  sleeps 
quietly  for  hours,  with  any  number  flying 
about  him. 


86 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 


CHAPTER   V. 

CADY 

ONE  day  when  my  hospital  was  so  full 
of  birds  I  did  not  know  which  way  to 
turn,  a  little  girl  came  in  with  a  nice 
fat  baby  robin.  I  said:  "  I  cannot  take 
another  patient,  for  my  hospital  is  fall 
to  overflowing."  She  begged  so  hard, 
and  said:  "  I  have  taken  it  away  from 
a  cat  three  times.  The  father  and 
mother  bird  have  gone  and  left  it,  and 
I  cannot  make  it  eat."  I  could  not  re- 
sist such  pleading,  and  said:  "I  will 
feed  it  for  a  few  days,  then  let  it  go." 
But  my  few  days  lasted  for  a  year  and 
a  half. 

Just  at  that  time  I  was  having  a  very 
pleasant  correspondence  with  Mrs.  Stan- 
87 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

ton,  so  I  said:  "  I  am  going  to  name 
the  bird  Elizabeth  Cady  Stanton,  and 
call  it  Cady  for  short,  so,  if  it  turns  out 
to  be  a  boy,  as  she  always  wanted  to  be, 
the  name  will  be  all  right." 

I  had  no  trouble  in  making  Cady  eat, 
and  of  all  the  birds  I  ever  had,  he  was 
the  most  interesting.  He  seemed  to 
understand  anything  I  said  to  him,  and 
would  talk  to  me  by  the  hour.  We  had 
no  difficulty  in  understanding  each  oth- 
er's language,  but  I  expected  every  day 
to  hear  him  say  real  words. 

For  many  weeks  he  lived  on  crackers 
and  milk,  then  Mocking  Bird  Food,  with 
only  two  meal  worms  a  week,  for  they 
are  very  rich.  He  loved  them  dearly,  and 
it  was  very  hard  sometimes  not  to  give 
in  to  him  when  he  asked  for  more.  He 
knew  where  they  were  kept,  and  often 
turned  over  the  bottle  and  tried  his  best 
to  get  them  out.  He  always  played  with 
a  worm  a  long  time  before  eating  it. 
Then  all  at  once  he  would  give  his  head 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

a  good  toss,  and  down  the  worm  would 

go- 
One  day  he  treated  a  large  rubber- 
band  in  the  same  way  he  did  his  worm, 
and,  before  I  realized  there  might  be 
danger,  it  had  disappeared.  I  was  dread- 
fully frightened,  and  watched  him  care- 
fully all  day,  but  he  seemed  none  the 
worse  for  a  change  in  his  diet. 

I  had  him  for  a  year  and  a  half,  and 
his  food  always  consisted  of  the  Mock- 
ing Bird  Food,  meal  worm,  and  cracker 
and  milk  for  his  supper  at  five  o'clock. 
He  was  so  fond  of  the  latter,  I  could 
not  take  it  away  from  him  entirely,  and 
when  five  o'clock  came,  he  always  knew 
and  made  me  understand  it  was  time  for 
his  supper,  and  would  not  touch  his  other 
food,  no  matter  how  much  he  had  in  his 
dish.  He  grew  to  be  very  large  and 
strong  and  the  handsomest  robin  I  have 
ever  seen.  He  was  very  playful,  and 
had  many  playthings  and  played  with 
them  like  a  dog.  Corks  were  his  special 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

delight,  and  he  had  many  sizes.  A  piece 
of  embroidery  he  could  put  his  bill 
through  would  amuse  him  many  hours. 
He  knew  Ins  name  in  a  very  short  time, 
and,  when  a  baby,  if  he  heard  my  voice, 
or  even  saw  me  out  in  the  yard,  he  would 
call  just  as  birds  do  for  their  mother. 
He  was  full  of  mischief  and  very  foxy. 
He  never  was  caged,  and  lived  on  the 
floor  and  his  perches. 

I  would  often  see  him  on  the  top 
perch,  looking  very  intently  over  into 
one  corner;  then  I  knew  he  was  like  the 
little  girl,  "  when  I  be's  still,  I  be's  think- 
ing mischief."  In  an  instant  he  would 
turn  and  make  a  dive  for  one  of  the 
canaries.  I  had  three  canaries  at  that 
time,  and  one  day  I  went  into  my  room 
to  find  feathers  all  over  the  floor  and 
many  spots  of  blood,  and  Cady  on  the 
highest  perch  looking  as  innocent  as  a 
baby.  After  looking  about,  I  found  the 
dear  little  things  in  a  most  dilapidated 
condition.  I  was  afraid  Judy  would  die, 

90 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

for  her  wing  was  put  out  of  joint,  but 
she  filially  recovered. 

Every  morning  when  I  took  my  bath, 
Cady  would  come  into  my  dressing-room 
and  have  a  visit,  perched  on  the  wash- 
stand  or  towel-rack,  and  tell  me  many 
stories.  He  was  a  great  lover  of  water, 
but  he  would  not  take  his  bath  alone, 
and  I  always-  had  to  play  with  him.  He 
would  wait  for  me  until  noon,  or,  in  fact, 
all  day.  I  gave  him  a  large  square  wil- 
low-ware vegetable  dish  for  his  tub, 
which  my  friends  thought  much  too  good 
for  him,  but  nothing  was  too  good  for 
Cady.  He  always  insisted  upon  having 
fresh  water  for  his  bath,  and  never  would 
take  it  in  water  that  had  stood  in  the 
pitcher  overnight.  Many  times  I  tried  to 
fool  him,  but  he  was  too  smart  for  me. 
When  he  was  ready  for  his  bath,  he 
would  go  into  my  dressing-room  and 
chirp,  then  come  back  to  me,  go  back 
again,  and  keep  it  up  until  I  got  the 
water.  Then  the  fun  commenced.  I 
91 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

began  by  taking  water  in  my  hand  and 
throwing  it  at  him.  He  would  hop  all 
over  the  room,  come  back  to  me  for  more, 
dance  around  first  on  one  foot,  then  on 
the  other,  turn  his  back  to  me,  then  face 
me.  After  we  had  played  enough  in 
that  way,  he  would  hop  into  the  water, 
and  I  would  take  a  whole  handful  of 
water  and  throw  over  him,  then  he  would 
begin  work  in  good  earnest,  and  such 
splashing  you  never  saw.  . 

He  certainly  was  a  sight  when  he  had 
finished  and  hopped  about  the  room  with 
streams  of  water  running  off  him.  It 
took  him  a  long  time  to  make  his  toilet, 
for  every  feather  had  to  be  preened  just 
so. 

At  that  time  I  had  a  dear  little  boy 
sparrow  named  "  Mack,"  who  was  a 
beauty  and  very  bright.  When  Cady 
took  his  bath,  he  always  came  down  and 
took  a  shower  bath.  In  the  fall  I  began 
Cady's  music  lessons,  and  every  one 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  my  thinking  I 

92 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

could  teach  him  to  sing  with  me.  Every 
day  after  luncheon  I  spent  an  hour  with 
him.  I  would  put  him  on  the  back  of 
a  chair  by  the  piano  and  play  and  sing 
a  very  catchy  little  waltz  song,  and  I 
kept  it  up  for  weeks  before  he  would 
sing  at  all,  but  I  knew  by  his  looks  and 
actions  he  was  taking  it  all  in,  so  I  was 
determined  I  would  not  give  up.  Finally 
one  day  he  began  to  follow  me  with  the 
sweet  notes  of  a  canary,  and  I  hardly 
dared  breathe,  but  went  right  on  singing 
as  if  I  did  not  hear  him,  and  from  that 
day  on  he  improved  with  every  lesson. 
Next  I  took  the  waltz  song  "  First 
Love  "  from  "  Olivette,"  and  he  showed 
great  delight  with  the  change,  and  en- 
tered right  into  the  spirit  of  the  song. 
We  sung  that  for  many  weeks,  always 
beginning  our  lessons  with  the  first  waltz 
song.  Then  for  a  change  I  thought  I 
would  try  him  with  a  waltz  song,  "May 
Blossoms,"  which  was  entirely  different 
in  style  and  tone.  He  liked  that  best 
93  * 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

of  all,  and  it  was  simply  marvellous  the 
way  he  sang  it.  He  was  always  in  such 
a  hurry  to  sing  it,  he  would  often  begin 
before  the  music.  I  began  with  the  idea 
of  giving  him  a  prize  when  we  had  fin- 
ished our  lessons,  but  that  did  not  suit 
him  at  all,  and  he  gave  me  to  understand 
that  he  must  have  one  to  begin  on.  He 
soon  learned  to  take  his  position  on  the 
chair  when  I  brought  him  into  the  par- 
lour. I  would  begin  to  play,  and  some- 
times, before  he  thought,  he  would  sing 
a  few  notes,  then  he  would  remember  his 
treat,  and  down  he  would  hop  into  a 
chair,  then  over  to  another  chair  which 
stood  in  the  back  parlour,  as  he  was 
afraid  of  a  fur  rug  that  lay  between  the 
doors,  and  would  never  put  his  claws  in 
it.  He  would  perch  on  the  arm  of  the 
chair  until  I  went  to  my  tea-table  and 
got  a  crumb  of  biscuit  or  cake  and  gave 
to  him,  then  he  would  hop  back  the  way 
he  came,  take  his  position,  and  begin  to 
sing.  After  his  lesson  he  always  had  a 

94 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

taste  of  honey  and  a  drink  of  water  out 
of  a  whiskey  glass.  He  seemed  very 
proud  of  his  accomplishments,  and  was 
always  more  than  willing  to  show  off 
for  visitors,  —  take  a  bath  as  well  as  sing 
for  them. 

One  day  he  was  in  the  back  parlour 
and  wanted  to  go  into  the  front  parlour. 
A  gentleman  was  sitting  with  his  legs 
crossed  in  the  chair  that  was  his  stepping- 
stone,  and  what  to  do  he  did  not  know. 
Several  times  he  hopped  on  to  the  first 
arm,  then  on  to  the  floor,  would  look  at 
the  fur  rug,  but  could  not  get  up  enough 
courage  to  go  over  it.  Again,  as  he 
hopped  on  to  the  arm,  his  eye  caught 
the  toe  of  the  gentleman's  shoe.  In  an 
instant  he  was  on  it  and  over  into  the 
front  parlour,  singing  with  great  glee 
over  his  cunning  feat. 

One  day  in  the   spring,  when   I   was 

giving  him  his. lesson,  a  friend  came  in 

with  a  very  large  dog.     Cady  had  never 

seen  a  dog  before,  and  I  was  afraid  he 

95 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

would  die  of  fright  and  that  his  voice 
was  ruined  for  ever.  I  could  not  get 
him  to  sing  a  note  for  many  weeks.  He 
showed  the  same  fear  every  time  I 
brought  him  down  to  the  parlours.  Af- 
ter he  had  finished  moulting  in  the  fall, 
he  was  more  beautiful  than  ever.  Every 
feather  was  perfect  and  shone  like  satin. 
I  brought  him  down-stairs  to  show  to  a 
friend,  and  the  first  thing  he  did  was 
to  take  his  position  on  the  chair  by  the 
piano  and  begin  to  chirp,  and  I  knew 
he  was  asking  me  to  play  for  him.  For 
six  months  he  had  not  sung  a  note,  so 
you  may  imagine  my  delight  when  out 
poured  the  sweetest  trills  of  the  best  bred 
canary.  Like  all  robins,  Cady  was  a  very 
early  riser,  and  during  the  summer  he 
would  wake  me  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  I  would  have  no  peace 
until  I  opened  my  blinds.  Of  course, 
it  was  very  nice  for  Cady,  but,  oh,  poor 
me!  Never  before  or  since  have  I  ever 
gotten  up  so  early,  for  sleep  was  out  of 

96 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

the  question.  He  would  come  down  on 
my  bed,  perch  on  my  shoulder,  and  send 
the  sweetest  trills  right  down  into  my 
ear,  but  I  could  not  fully  appreciate  them 
at  that  early  hour.  If  that  did  not  take 
effect,  he  would  peck  my  hands;  if  I 
put  them  under  the  cover,  then  my  eyes, 
cheeks,  nose,  and  mouth. 

I  regret  very  much  that  Cady's  pho- 
tograph was  not  taken  when  he  was  tak- 
ing a  sun  bath.  He  would  toss  back  his 
head,  spread  out  his  wings,  lean  against 
anything  that  was  most  convenient,  and 
a  lady  with  a  train  posing  for  her  por- 
trait could  not  have  been  more  graceful. 
Every  one  said:  "When  winter  comes, 
Cady  will  feel  the  cold,"  but  Cady  had 
no  intention  of  being  cold,  and  a  warm 
room  was  all  the  Florida  he  cared  for. 

Instead  of  a  sun  bath,  he  took  a  fire 
bath,  and  often  before  he  went  to  sleep 
for  the  night  he  would  perch  on  the  back 
of  a  low  chair  by  the  fire,  and  drink  in 
all  the  warm  air  he  could  hold. 
97 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

The  first  autumn  I  had  Cady,  I  was 
told  I  must  clip  his  wings,  for  he  was 
never  caged.  A  friend  came  one  day, 
and  we  clipped  several  of  the  birds' 
wings,  but  my  heart  was  broken  when  it 
was  done,  for  they  all  felt  so  ashamed, 
especially  Cady.  At  that  time  I  had  the 
Princess  of  Wales,  and  she  was  a  most 
inquisitive  little  lady.  She  would  follow 
Cady  about,  look  him  all  over,  get  him 
into  a  corner,  examine  his  wings,  and 
lift  up  with  her  bill  the  one  that  had  been 
clipped.  The  next  autumn,  when  Cady's 
new  feathers  came  in,  they  were  so  beau- 
tiful I  did  not  'have  the  heart  to  clip 
his  wings  again.  But  he  was  getting  so 
unruly,  chasing  my  other  small  birds,  fly- 
ing through  the  air  and  picking  them 
up  as  if  they  were  flies,  that  I  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  him.  I  knew  I 
must  clip  his  wing  or  cage  him,  and  I 
knew  the  latter  would  simply  kill  the 
poor  bird.  Each  day  I  would  get  ready 
to  cut  it  my.  courage  would  fail,  and  I 

98 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

would  put  it  off  until  the  next,  and,  like 
all  things  we  keep  putting  off,  there 
came  a  day  when  I  would  have  given 
all  I  possessed  if  I  had  clipped  his  wing 
in  the  beginning. 

Cady  was  afraid  out-of-doors.  One 
day  he  fell  out  of  my  bedroom  window, 
and  waited  for  me  to  come  and  get  him. 
He  often  stood  in  my  bedroom  window, 
but  never  seemed  to  care  to  go  out.  If 
I  took  him  into  the  yard,  he  would  fly 
back  into  the  house  if  the  door  was 
open. 

One  day  I  took  him  quite  a  walk  to 
see  a  friend.  He  perched  on  my  wrist 
(as  my  finger  was  too  small),  did  not 
offer  to  get  off,  and  seemed  very  much 
at  home  in  the  friend's  house,  so  I  never 
thought  of  his  going  away.  When  he 
began  his  lessons  in  the  autumn,  his  wing 
was  all  feathered  out,  and  he  could  fly 
everywhere.  Instead  of  hopping  from 
chair  to  chair  for  his  treat,  he  would  fly 
out  into  the  dining-room,  light  on  the 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

dining-room   table   and   wait   for   me   to 
come. 

One  Sunday  morning  I  had  been  giv- 
ing him  a  longer  lesson  than  usual,  for 
he  was  singing  better  than  I  had  ever 
heard  him.  All  at  once  he  stopped  short, 
flew  as  usual  into  the  dining-room,  where 
the  door  was  opened  on  to  the  piazza,  and 
out  of  it  he  went,  soaring  way  up  in  the 
air.  It  was  a  glorious  day,  and  when  he 
lighted  in  a  tall  tree  up  the  street,  I  could 
hear  him  singing  with  delight.  If  I  could 
have  had  the  street  to  myself,  I  am  sure 
I  could  have  gotten  him,  but  it  was 
just  the  hour  when  the  children  were  re- 
turning from  Sunday  school,  and  I  could 
not  keep  them  away.  Twice  he  came 
within  a  few  feet  of  me,  then  the  boys 
or  the  rustle  of  the  leaves  frightened  him 
away.  For  weeks  he  was  about,  and  I 
spent  many  hours  trying  to  get  him  to 
come  to  me.  He  always  answered  my 
call,  but  seemed  afraid  to  fly  down  to 
me. 

100 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

I  would  not  have  taken  hundreds  of 
dollars  for  him,  and  whatever  became  of 
him  I  know  not,  but  I  fear  he  perished 
when  winter  came,  as  he  knew  nothing 
about  migrating. 


101 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 


CHAPTER   VI. 

SOME   TRANSIENT    PATIENTS 

A  YOUNG  meadow-lark  was  brought 
to  me  one  morning  by  a  small  boy,  whose 
dog  had  chased  it  and  broken  its  leg. 
I  had  never  had  any  experience  in  set- 
ting bones,  but,  as  there  is  always  a  first 
time,  I  thought  I  could  at  least  try,  even 
if  I  did  not  succeed.  I  found  it  was  not 
a  very  easy  thing  to  do  alone,  but,  after 
trying  a  number  of  times,  I  managed 
to  get  my  toothpick  splint  on  securely. 
For  several  days  the  leg  seemed  to  be 
doing  nicely,  and  I  felt  quite  proud  of 
my  work  and  sure  the  leg  was  knitting. 
All  at  once  the  bird  began  to  smell  very 
badly,  and  in  a  few  days  it  died,  so  I 
think  it  must  have  been  hurt  internally. 

102 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

Another  morning  I  had  an  orchard 
oriole  brought  to  me.  He,  like  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  had  been  shot.  One 
wing  was  broken  and  there  was  a  deep 
flesh  wound  underneath.  I  did  not  ex- 
pect to  save  him,  but,  after  a  few  days, 
the  wound  healed  and  he  was  perfectly 
well,  except  the  broken  wing,  which  did 
not  bother  him.  He  seemed  very  happy, 
even  if  he  could  only  fly  a  very  little,, 
and  spent  most  of  his  time  hopping  about 
on  the  floor.  His  favourite  perching- 
place  was  on  the  top  of  a  candle  ori  my 
dressing-table. 

One  morning  he  came  over  to  my  bed 
and  woke  me  by  pecking  my  hands.  As 
it  was  too  early  for  me  to  wake,  I  put 
him  on  the  floor  and  went  to  sleep. 
When  I  got  up,  I  could  not  find  my 
pretty  Duke.  He  had  never  been  in  my 
dressing-room,  but  that  morning  the  light 
must  have  attracted  him,  as  my  room 
was  dark,  and  in  trying  to  hop  on  the 
edge  of  the  water- jar  he  fell  in. 
103 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

You  can  imagine  my  horror  when  I 
saw  him  in  the  water  dead,  with  his 
lovely  feathers  all  spoiled,  and  I  felt  I 
had  been  a  careless  nurse. 

A  cousin  brought  to  the  hospital  from 
the  country  a  young  snipe.  She  was  so 
afraid  it  would  get  away,  she  put  it  into 
a  shoe  box  which  was  too  small,  then 
tied  the  cover  down  tight,  without  mak- 
ing one  hole  to  let  the  air  in.  Conse- 
quently, when  she  arrived,  the  bird  was 
just  gasping  and  almost  dead. 

I  had  never  seen  a  young  snipe  before, 
and  I  was  so  anxious  to  save  it.  It  was 
a  beauty.  Of  course,  it  was  all  legs  and 
feet,  but  they  were  really  beautiful  in 
shape,  and  the  colour  like  the  soft  shade 
of  green  in  young  twigs.  I  worked  over 
it  four  hours,  hoping  I  might  bring  it 
back  to  life,  but  it  was  beyond  me.  It 
was  a  most  pitiful  sight  to  see  it  take  so 
long  to  die. 

I  was  very  glad  one  day  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  looking  over  a  chimney  swift, 

104 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

but,  as  it  was  an  old  bird  and  not  hurt  in 
the  least,  I  felt  it  would  be  cruel  to  keep 
it  in  the  hospital.  It  was  so  frightened 
it  did  not  fly  off  from  my  hand  for  five 
minutes  after  I  took  it  out-of-doors. 

One  day  a  very  tender-hearted  little 
boy,  with  big  tears  in  his  eyes,  came  and 
asked  me  to  take  in  a  tiny  baby  bird  not 
three  inches  long  from  end  of  bill  to  tip 
of  tail.  It  was  gray  with  white  breast, 
long  pointed  white  bill,  and  very  large 
eyes.  Its  pretty  little  head  was  drawn 
back  like  a  person  having  spinal  menin- 
gitis, and  it  was  making  a  mournful 
peep.  When  I  took  it  into  my  hand, 
I  did  not  think  it  could  live  but  a  few 
moments,  but  it  did  four  hours,  suffering 
all  the  time,  and  it  seemed  as  if  its  piti- 
ful peep  would  drive  me  wild.  I  man- 
aged to  get  a  little  milk  down  its  throat, 
but  I  could  not  find  the  cause  of  the 
head  being  drawn  back,  as  there  was  no 
sign  of  any  bruise.  Finally  I  saw  a 
black  speck  sticking  out  of  its  bill.  I 
105 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

began  to  pull,  and  kept  on  until  I  had 
pulled  out  a  quarter  of  a  yard  of  coarse 
horsehair.  I  knew  then  there  was  some- 
thing on  the  other  end,  and  that  the  bird 
could  not  live  with  whatever  it  was  in 
its  throat.  I  gave  a  quick  pull,  and  you 
can  imagine  my  surprise  when  out  came 
a  piece  of  hard  white  shell,  triangular 
shape,  all  wound  around  with  the  hair. 
No  wonder  the  little  thing  peeped,  and 
that  its  head  was  drawn  back,  with  that 
sharp  point  sticking  into  its  throat.  The 
mother  must  have  rammed  it  down  her 
baby's  throat,  thinking  it  was  some 
goody. 

After  I  had  removed  the  shell,  the 
little  sufferer  seemed  so  relieved;  the 
peeping  stopped,  and  it  would  try  to  flop 
its  wee  wings  when  it  saw  me  with  the 
milk.  I  was  in  hopes  I  was  going  to 
save  it,  but  it  did  not  have  the  strength 
to  rally,  and  it  went  where  all  good 
birdies  go. 

For  a  week  I  had  a  dear  baby  robin, 

106 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

who  came  down-stairs  every  night  to  look 
me  up  when  it  was  time  for  him  to  go 
to  bed  in  his  basket.  I  had  a  wild  pigeon 
at  the  time  who  delighted  in  pecking  any 
small  bird  who  came  to  the  hospital.  He 
gave  the  robin  a  hard  peck  on  the  back 
of  the  neck,  I  suppose  striking  a  nerve, 
for  soon  the  head  began  to  draw  back, 
and  in  a  few  hours  he  died.  Theodore 
Roosevelt,  the  wild  pigeon,  was  in  the  hos- 
pital two  long  years,  receiving  constant 
treatment,  from  burns  which  he  had 
received  by  being  caught  in  electric  wires. 
Then  I  had  a  large  white  domestic 
pigeon  that  was  taken  away  from  a  dog 
who  was  tearing  him  to  pieces.  Such 
a  sight  as  he  was,  covered  with  blood 
and  mud,  when  I  took  him  in.  The 
feathers  were  all  torn  out  of  one  wing, 
and  he  could  not  stand  on  his  feet.  The 
first  thing  I  gave  him  a  bath  in  warm 
water  and  soap,  then  found  several  flesh 
wounds,  which  I  powdered  with  talcum 
powder  (never  put  anything  greasy  on 
107 


THE    BIRD   HOSPITAL 

a  bird),  and  put  him  in  a  cot,  where  I 
kept  him  as  quiet  as  possible  for  several 
days.  He  was  not  at  all  timid,  ate  from 
my  hand,  drank  water  from  a  whiskey 
glass,  as  if  he  had  always  been  fed  in 
that  way,  never  even  trying  to  stand  up 
or  get  out  of  his  cot.  I  felt  quite  en- 
couraged when,  after  a  week,  he  could 
perch  on  my  wrist  for  a  few  minutes, 
so  I  knew  that  there  were  no  bones 
broken,  but  I  was  afraid  that  he  was 
never  going  to  have  the  use  of  one  of  his 
claws,  for  the  toes  all  turned  under  when 
he  tried  to  put  it  down,  but  patience  and 
care  were  my  reward,  for  it  got  entirely 
well.  You  could  fairly  see  the  new  feath- 
ers grow  in  his  wing,  and  he  was  de- 
lighted when  he  could  flop  his  wings  and 
exercise.  It  was  very  interesting  to 
watch  him  when  he  first  began  trying  to 
walk.  I  would  put  him  down  on  the 
floor.  He  would  lift  the  lame  foot  very 
high,  and  throw  the  claws  out  before 
putting  it  down,  to  prevent  the  toes  turn- 

108 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

ing  under.  I  expected  he  would  want 
to  fly  away  when  he  found  he  was  made 
whole  again,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  have 
the  slightest  desire.  He  became  quite  a 
pet,  and  when  I  spoke  to  him,  he  would 
bow  his  head  and  say,  "  Coo- wee,  coo- 
wee,  coo-wee,"  but  he  was  too  large  a 
bird  for  the  house,  and  he  now  lives  with 
many  of  his  kind,  where  he  has  the  best 
of  care. 

One  morning  I  saw  a  baby  sparrow 
on  a  piazza,  and  a  cat  just  ready  to 
spring  at  it.  I  got  in  ahead  of  the  cat, 
and  brought  her  home  with  me.  I  wish 
all  of  the  people  who  say  they  hate  the 
English  sparrow  could  have  known  this 
one,  whom  I  named  "  Monie."  She  was 
a  perfect  little  beauty,  and  full  of  all 
sorts  of  antics.  Every  feather  shone  like 
satin,  and  her  colouring  was  the  soft 
shade  of  brown  you  see  in  otter  fur. 
She  loved  to  tease  the  other  birds,  espe- 
cially the  canaries.  She  would  go  inside 
the  cage  when  they  were  on  top  and 
109 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

bite  their  claws  and  try  to  pull  them 
through  the  bars.  Then  she  would  hang 
with  one  claw  caught  on  the  top  of  the 
cage  and  go  through  all  sorts  of  per- 
formances. I  had  a  box  which  rested 
on  a  low  table,  divided  off  into  two  com- 
partments, one  filled  with  gravel  and  the 
other  with  food.  In  the  centre  of  one 
side  was  part  of  a  broomstick,  with  any 
number  of  perches  all  sizes  on  it,  and  a 
platform  over  the  other  side  where  a 
brass  cage  stood.  The  box  and  perches, 
being  painted  light  green,  made  a  pretty 
sight  when  the  perches  were  filled  with 
many  birds  of  different  size  and  colour. 
There  was  a  platform  that  rested  on  the 
window-sill,  where  Teddy,  the  pigeon, 
liked  best  to  stay.  He  would  walk  back 
and  forth  or  sit  there  most  of  the  day, 
looking  out  of  the  windows.  When  he 
wanted  to  walk  in  the  gravel  or  get 
something  to  eat,  he  would  walk  down 
the  little  steps  into  the  box  with  a  great 
deal  of  dignity. 

110 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

Monie  always  insisted  upon  perching 
on  one  of  the  largest  perches,  and  very 
often  she  would  fall  on  to  the  floor,  and, 
as  her  wing  was  clipped,  she  could  not  get 
back  in  the  box  until  I  picked  her  up.  At 
that  time  there  were  some  mice  who  came 
and  ate  with  the  birds.  Taffy  did  not 
seem  to  think  they  had  any  right  there, 
and  often  tried  to  catch  them.  Twice 
he  picked  Monie  up  off  from  the  floor, 
thinking  she  was  a  mouse,  and  brought 
her  down-stairs.  When  he  saw  me,  he 
came  right  up  to  me  and  let  me  take  her 
out  of  his  mouth,  as  if  he  was  glad  to 
get  rid  of  her.  The  next  time  I  missed 
her,  I  looked  ten  minutes,  then  I  heard 
Taffy  ring  his  bells,  and  he  kept  it  up 
until  I  found  him  behind  a  heavy  curtain, 
lying  down  with  his  paws  under  him, 
and  holding  Monie  very  carefully  in  his 
mouth.  I  put  out  my  hand  and  he  laid 
her  in  it,  and  she  was  not  hurt  in  the 
least.  After  that  I  tried  my  best  to  make 
Monie  sleep  on  a  smaller  perch,  but  she 
111 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

was  as  wilful  as  she  was  pretty,  and  no 
other  perch  seemed  to  suit  her.  Her 
wil  fulness  caused  her  death,  for  she  fell 
off  in  the  middle  of  the  night  when  the 
room  was  dark.  Taffy  picked  her  up  and 
she  squealed  like  a  mouse.  As  he  held 
her  tighter,  she  squealed  louder,  and 
Taffy  thought  he  had  a  mouse  sure.  I 
jumped  out  of  bed,  but,  by  the  time  I 
got  a  light,  he  had  choked  her  to  death. 
When  he  saw  that  he  had  Monie  instead 
of  a  mouse,  he  put  her  into  my  hand, 
and  no  person  could  have  shown  more 
grief. 

Late  one  evening  a  small  boy  came  to 
the  door  and  asked  if  I  did  not  want  to 
buy  a  white  rat.  To  get  rid  of  the  boy, 
I  bought  the  rat,  thinking  I  would  give 
it  to  our  boy  the  next  morning,  but  he 
was  so  bright  and  cunning,  I  named  him 
Billy  Watt,  and  kept  him  many  months. 
He  was  a  most  interesting  pet  and  very 
much  like  a  squirrel  in  all  of  his  ways. 
Taffy  thought  it  was  "  adding  insult  to 

112 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

injury  "  to  ask  him  to  be  polite  to  Billy 
Watt,  but  he  soon  understood  he  was  to 
treat  him  as  politely  as  the  birds. 

One  day  Billy  Watt  bit  Monie  so  the 
blood  came.  I  took  him  in  one  hand, 
Monie  in  the  other,  and  let  her  bite  his 
nose,  ears,  and  paws,  and  it  frightened 
him  almost  to  death  when  he  found  a 
bird  could  bite  as  well  as  a  rat,  and  he 
never  touched  her  again. 

It  was  hard  to  make  people  believe, 
who  did  not  see  it,  that  Taffy  would 
sleep  for  hours  in  my  room,  with  birds 
flying  around  and  Billy  Watt  asleep  in 
a  basket  near  by. 

The  largest  patient  I  ever  had  was  a 
turkey-buzzard,  and  the  smallest  full- 
grown  bird  a  Parola  warbler. 

When  Taffy  beheld  Mr.  Buzzard 
perched  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  his  wrath 
knew  no  bounds.  He  did  not  spring  at 
him,  simply  sat  down  in  front  of  him, 
and  by  the  growling  and  spitting  you 

113 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

would  have  thought  there  were  a  dozen 
of  cats  instead  of  one. 

One  day  our  neighbour's  crow  came 
to  visit  us,  and  insisted  upon  sitting  in 
Taffy's  chair,  which  did  not  suit  his 
Royal  Highness  at  all.  He  stood  upon 
his  hind  legs  with  his  front  paws  on  the 
chair,  and  smelled  Mr.  Crow  all  over, 
but  Mr.  Crow  did  not  mind  in  the  least 
and  would  not  move,  so  Mr.  Taffy 
jumped  into  the  chair  and  curled  him- 
self up  by  the  side  of  the  crow,  and  they 
spent  the  day  together. 

Once  I  read  with  the  greatest  interest 
an  article  about  a  Parola  warbler,  and 
felt  I  would  like  very  much  to  know  the 
authoress,  and  tell  her  there  was  another 
person  who  had  come  in  as  close  contact 
with  one  as  she  did.  One  can  read  dozens 
of  beautiful  descriptions  of  these  dainti- 
est of  fairies,  but  no  one  can  have  the 
slightest  conception  of  their  beauty,  or 
half  appreciate  them,  until  they  have 
held  one  in  their  hand.  Mine  was  caught 

114 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

by  a  cat,  but  it  lived  all  day,  so  I  had 
plenty  of  time  to  study  every  exquisite 
feather. 

I  hope  the  day  may  come  when  I  shall 
be  fortunate  enough  to  see  another,  but 
they  are  very  rare,  especially  in  Central 
New  York. 

The  Parola  warbler  was  the  first  bird 
that  opened  John  Burroughs's  eyes  to  the 
beauty  of  birddom. 


115 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 


CHAPTER   VII. 

JUDY   AND   NED 

THOSE  who  have  not  tried  mating  and 
raising  birds  have  lost  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure.  Besides  being  intensely  inter- 
esting, one  learns  many  things  worth 
knowing. 

Once  I  heard  a  lady  say  that  she 
thought  all  women  ought  to  raise  birds 
before  trying  to  bring  up  a  family,  for 
there  was  so  much  to  be  learned  from  the 
birds. 

I  had  a  friend  who  was  very  anxious 
for  me  to  try  my  luck  at  bird-raising, 
so  one  day  she  brought  over  her  hand- 
some green  and  gold  canary.  At  that 
time  I  had  a  number  of  birds,  among 
them  three  which  I  thought  were  females, 

116 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

but  I  was  only  sure  of  one,  a  little 
girl  sparrow.  Blondell  —  a  canary  —  was 
given  to  me  for  a  female,  but  several 
said  they  were  sure  it  was  a  male.  She 
was  an  exquisite  yellow  of  different 
shades,  with  a  topknot  of  yellow  tipped 
with  white,  then  black,  with  a  catching 
little  bang. 

Judy  —  a  canary  —  was  bought  for  a 
singer,  but  the  person  who  gave  her  to 
me  said  she  had  never  sung,  but  she 
thought  the  reason  was  because  she  had 
the  asthma.  I  think  she  was  a  goldfinch, 
for  she  was  very  small,  with  black  wing 
feathers,  and  a  pretty  black  topknot 
parted  in  the  middle.  I  had  named  her 
after  one  of  my  dearest  friends,  so  I 
immediately  called  the  green  canary  Ned 
after  her  better  half.  Ned  knew  more 
than  any  of  us,  for,  as  soon  as  he  was 
let  out  of  his  cage,  he  flew  over  in  front 
of  Judy  and  sat  down  before  her,  never 
noticing  the  other  birds,  and  poured  the 
most  entrancing  song  right  into  her  ears. 
117 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

It  certainly  was  love  at  first  sight,  and 
for  a  year  their  devotion  was  something 
rare  to  see.  Then  Blondell  made  trouble 
in  the  family.  Ned  and  Judy's  courtship 
was  of  short  duration,  and  soon  they 
began  housekeeping  in  good  earnest.  I 
gave  them  a  cage,  and  hung  it  on  the 
wall,  so  they  would  not  be  bothered  with 
the  other  birds.  During  the  day  they 
went  where  they  pleased,  but,  when 
night  came,  they  always  went  back  to 
their  cage  and  perched  as  close  as  they 
could  to  each  other. 

After  the  eggs  were  laid,  and  Judy 
had  to  sleep  on  the  nest,  Ned  perched  as 
close  to  the  nest  as  he  could  get. 

Judy's  nest  was  most  beautifully  made, 
a  perfect  symphony  of  colour,  and  a  de- 
light to  the  eye.  I  gave  to  her  bits  of 
pink,  blue,  yellow,  green,  and  white  cot- 
ton, little  pieces  of  dainty  coloured  baby 
ribbon  and  pink  string.  She  wove  the 
ribbons  all  in  with  the  cotton,  then  fes- 
tooned the  outside  with  the  pink  string, 

118 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

and  on  the  top  she  laid  chickweed  with 
its  tiny  white  blossoms.  When  she  was 
making  her  nest,  I  noticed  she  had  the 
cotton  very  high  above  the  basket  and 
none  in  the  bottom,  so  I  thought  I  would 
lend  a  helping  hand  and  fix  the  bottom 
for  her.  A  more  angry  bird  I  never 
saw  when  she  discovered  I  had  been  med- 
dling with  something  I  knew  nothing 
about.  She  stood  on  the  top  of  the  nest 
and  scolded  for  some  time,  then  reached 
down  and  took  out  all  of  the  cotton  I 
had  put  in  and  threw  it  on  the  bottom 
of  the  cage.  When  she  was  ready,  she 
put  the  cotton  in  to  suit  herself. 

She  laid  four  eggs,  but  none  hatched 
out,  so  she  and  Ned  took  the  nest  apart, 
and  a  new  one  was  made  of  all  new 
material,  more  beautiful  than  the  first. 

She  laid  four  eggs  again,  but  the  long 
strain  of  setting  was  telling  upon  her, 
for  Ned  was  not  a  good  nurse,  and  did 
not  like  staying  at  home  and  feeding  her. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  me,  I  am  afraid 
119 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

she  would  have  gone  hungry  many  times. 
Finally  one  egg  hatched  out,  and  it  was 
not  as  large  as  a  bumblebee.  Unfortu- 
nately, the  chick  only  lived  one  day.  By 
that  time  it  was  so  warm  I  took  the  nest 
away,  but  Ned's  devotion  seemed  to  in- 
crease instead  of  diminish.  Every  morn- 
ing they  would  kiss  each  other,  and  every 
night  before  going  to  sleep,  and  they 
always  slept  side  by  side.  This  went  on 
for  a  year,  and  they  were  such  a  happy 
pair.  In  the  spring  they  went  to  house- 
keeping again,  and  everything  was  going 
on  in  the  most  blissful  way  when  Monie 
and  Blondell  thought  they  would  like  a 
beau  and  go  to  housekeeping,  too.  So 
they  began  to  flirt  and  coquette  in  a  most 
shocking  way  with  Mr.  Ned,  a  married 
man.  I  used  to  say:  "  You  naughty, 
wicked  girls,  you  better  stop  your  non- 
sense, for  Ned  will  never  leave  that  dear 
little  wife  of  his,  for  he  loves  her  too 
dearly  to  waste  any  time  on  either  of 

you." 

120 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

But,  alas,  a  little  flattery  was  all  that 
was  needed  to  make  him  false  to  the 
loving  wife,  who  simply  adored  him  and 
was  his  slave. 

Judy  and  Ned  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  making  love  to  each  other  on  the  top 
of  the  large  mirror  over  my  dressing- 
table.  They  would  promenade  back  and 
forth  and  toss  their  pretty  heads,  and 
you  could  easily  imagine  all  the  charm- 
ing little  tales  of  love  Ned  was  confiding 
to  Judy,  and  every  little  while  they  would 
kiss  each  other. 

Sweet  little  Monie,  with  her  dainty, 
quiet  dress,  did  not  seem  to  have  any 
charm  for  Ned,  so  she  took  up  with 
Mack,  who  was  English  like  herself. 

One  day  when  Judy  was  sitting  on  her 
nest,  and  Ned  was  getting  uneasy  and 
very  tired  of  staying  at  home  and  wait- 
ing upon  her,  Miss  Blondell  sallied  forth 
with  every  feather  preened,  until  she  was 
a  mass  of  shimmering  gold.  She  went 
up  on  top  of  the  mirror  and  promenaded, 
121 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

well  knowing  admiring  eyes  were  gazing 
at  her,  for  how  could  any  one  help  look- 
ing at  such  grace  and  beauty?  She  soon 
began  making  eyes  at  Ned,  and  calling 
to  him  in  a  sweet,  cooing  voice  to  come 
to  her.  He  simply  could  not  resist  her 
and  was  soon  by  her  side.  Judy  scolded 
and  scolded,  and  called  to  him  many 
times  to  come  home,  but  not  the  slightest 
attention  did  he  pay  to  her,  and  really, 
I  do  not  suppose  he  heard  one  word  she 
said,  for  he  was  so  completely  fascinated 
with  that  exquisite  blonde.  Judy  stood 
it  as  long  as  she  could,  but  when  Ned 
kissed  Blondell  before  her  very  eyes,  that 
was  more  than  any  one  could  expect  her 
to  endure.  She  flew  out  of  her  cage, 
over  on  to  the  mirror,  and  if  she  did  not 
tell  the  little  blonde  lady  just  what  she 
thought  of  her,  I  am  much  mistaken. 
She  then  turned  to  Ned,  in  her  old  affec- 
tionate, bewitching  way,  with  her  pretty 
little  head  cocked  on  one  side,  and  asked 
him  to  kiss  her,  but  he  refused  for  the 

122 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

first  time.  She  went  back  to  her  nest 
broken-hearted,  and  never  interfered  with 
them  again.  Soon  Ned  and  Blondell  had 
the  face  to  go  to  housekeeping  right  next 
door,  Ned  going  from  one  house  to  the 
other,  but  Judy  never  allowed  Blondell 
to  enter  her  door. 

I  feel  sure  that  Ned  really  loved  Judy 
the  best,  for  he  spent  more  time  with 
her  than  he  did  with  Blondell,  but  there 
was  something  about  Blondell  that  he 
could  not  resist,  for  she  simply  hypno- 
tized him. 

I  was  ill  at  the  time,  so  I  had  plenty 
of  leisure  lying  in  bed  to  watch  them. 
My  nurse  .often  said  she  was  so  inter- 
ested in  the  birds  she  could  hardly  take 
care  of  her  patient. 

Blondell  was  punished  for  making  so 
much  trouble  for  Judy,  for  none  of  her 
eggs  hatched  out.  Then  Ned's  mistress 
took  Blondell  to  her  house  and  mated  her 
with  her  bird,  Dick.  Blondell  was  only 
too  delighted  to  have  a  new  lover,  and 
123 


THE    BIRD   HOSPITAL 

she  soon  forgot  all  about  faithless  Ned. 
She  raised  one  lovely  green  and  gold 
bird  like  his  father.  I  brought  them  both 
home,  and  named  her  son  "  Mike  "  after 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  boy  singers 
the  world  has  ever  known  or  ever  will. 
Mike  was  always  very  uneasy,  and  acted 
more  like  a  wild  bird,  and  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  keep  him  in  his  cage.  He 
was  full  of  all  sorts  of  antics  and  loved 
to  torment  his  mother. 

I  looked  forward  to  having  a  fine 
singer,  but  he  was  not  contented  in  this 
small  town,  so  one  warm,  bright  morning 
in  the  fall  he  went  abroad  to  cultivate  his 
voice,  and  we  have  never  seen  him  since. 

I  still  have  Blondell,  and  some  day 
I  hope  she  may  have  another  son. 


124 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

DONA   MARINA 

DONA  MARINA  came  to  the  hospital, 
not  as  a  patient,  but  as  a  destroyer  of 
patients.  Since  that  time  she  has  been  a 
great  deal  of  care  with  her  numerous 
kittens  and  a  very  bad  burn  on  her  side 
and  head.  I  accidentally  turned  a  tea- 
kettle of  boiling  water  over  her.  I  dried 
her  as  quickly  as  possible,  then  covered 
her  with  talcum  powder,  and  kept  her 
shut  up  in  the  hospital  all  day. 

She  was  a  great  sufferer,  and  for  hours 
was  in  perfect  agony.  Still,  I  did  not 
realize  for  days  how  badly  she  was 
burned  until  the  hair  began  to  come  out. 
For  three  months  she  had  a  scab  as  large 
as  my  hand. 
125 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

She  bore  her  sufferings  very  bravely. 
When  the  scab  began  to  loosen,  she  would 
come  to  me  every  day  and  ask  me  to  cut 
off  the  loose  edges.  She  would  stand 
very  quietly  while  I  trimmed  them  with 
my  manicure  scissors. 

Every  one  said  the  sore  would  not  heal, 
and,  if  it  did,  the  hair  would  never  come 
in,  but  the  scab  is  all  gone,  and  the  hair 
has  come  in  and  almost  covered  the  bare 
spots. 

I  so  often  hear  people  say:  "  I  would 
like  so  much  to  keep  a  cat,  but  I  cannot 
on  account  of  my  bird,"  or  "I  would 
enjoy  having  a  bird,  but  of  course  I 
cannot,  because  my  cat  would  kill  it  in 
less  than  a  wink."  I  used  to  think  the 
very  same  way.  When  a  child,  I  had 
a  number  of  canary  birds,  which  went 
down  my  neighbours'  cats'  throats  if  they 
did  not  mine,  so  I  gave  up  keeping  birds, 
as  I  liked  cats  so  much  better,  and  I  did 
not  have  one  for  years,  until  "  Little 
Billee  "  came  to  me. 

126 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

I  did  such  wonderful  things  with 
Taffy.  I  think  all  that  is  needed  is  a 
great  deal  of  patience  and  to  understand 
cat  language  and  have  cats  understand 
you. 

Two  years  ago  a  neighbour's  black  cat 
was  determined  to  kill  my  canary  Blon- 
dell,  and  I  was  just  as  determined  she 
should  not.  I  fought  her  for  a  year  and 
a  half,  but  it  was  simply  impossible  to 
keep  her  out  of  the  house,  as  our  doors 
and  windows  were  opened  nearly  as  much 
in  winter  as  in  summer,  and  she  would 
be  in  the  house  hours  before  I  knew  it. 
I  was  not  allowed  by  her  owner  to  put 
bells  on  her,  so  as  to  warn  Blondell  and 
me  of  her  approach,  and  the  first  thing 
I  would  hear  was  a  crash  and  the  cage 
fall  on  the  floor.  Often  when  lying 
down  I  would  hear  Blondell  screech,  and 
open  my  eyes  to  see  the  cat  on  top  of 
the  cage.  As  the  cage  always  stood  on 
a  low  table,  it  was  very  easy  to  reach. 
We  did  everything  we  could  to 
127 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

frighten  the  cat  to  keep  her  away,  but 
I  would  not  hurt  her  or  let  any  one  else. 
One  day  the  woman  who  was  cleaning 
for  me  gave  her  a  dreadful  beating  with 
a  wet  floor-cloth,  and  said:  "Now,  I 
guess  you  will  go  home  and  stay  there." 
I  came  out  just  as  the  cat  was  going 
and  said:  "  Poor  kitty."  She  turned  and 
fairly  flew  to  my  side,  and  from  that 
day  to  this  she  has  been  devoted  to  me. 

When  I  found  she  had  fully  made  up 
her  mind  to  come  here  and  live,  and  noth- 
ing would  keep  her  away,  I  said:  "  I 
will  teach  her  not  to  kill  my  bird."  My 
friends  all  laughed  in  my  face  and  said: 
"  The  idea  of  your  thinking  you  can 
teach  an  ill-bred  cat,  who  has  never  had 
any  bringing  up,  the  same  as  you  taught 
an  intelligent  cat  like  Taffy." 

I  soon  found  the  cat  was  very  affec- 
tionate, and  that  she  loved  me,  and  that 
is  the  best  beginning  you  can  have.  I 
named  her  Dona  Marina,  as  she  was 
black  enough  for  a  Spanish  lady.  Her 

128 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

coat  was  black  and  shiny  and  her  head 
and  paws  very  small.  In  a  few  days  she 
knew  her  name,  so  I  felt  she  was  quick 
to  learn.  From  the  day  I  gave  the  name 
to  her,  she  has  never  been  called  any- 
thing else,  and  always  answers  me  and 
will  carry  on  long  conversations  with  me. 
If  she  is  up  in  my  room  and  I  go  to  the 
foot  of  the  stairs  and  say:  "Dona  Ma- 
rina," she  answers  me.  If  I  say,  "  Dona 
Marina,  are  you  up-stairs?"  she  answers 
twice.  I  always  invited  her  to  come  into 
my  room  when  she  came  up-stairs,  and, 
if  she  went  after  Blondell,  I  closed  my 
door,  then  punished  her  by  slapping  her 
paws  and  talking  to  her,  but  never  sent 
her  out  of  my  room.  She  soon  under- 
stood she  could  stay  there  as  long  as  she 
behaved  herself,  and  spent  many  hours 
without  me  there.  Still  I  was  not  quite 
sure  of  her,  and  every  one  said:  "  She 
will  kill  Blondell  some  day."  When  I 
went  out  of  the  house,  I  sent  her  down- 
stairs and  closed  the  door.  That  went  on 
129 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

for  many  weeks,  when  one  day  I  went 
to  my  room  about  four  o'clock.  Dona 
Marina  had  been  asleep  on  my  bed  since 
luncheon  with  Blondell  and  no  one  else. 
It  seemed  a  pity  to  wake  her  and  make 
her  go  down,  so  I  thought  I  would  take 
the  risk,  and  went  out  and  left  her. 
Several  friends  said  they  would  not  feel 
sorry  for  me  at  all  if,  when  I  went  home, 
I  did  not  even  find  a  tail  feather.  I 
laughed  and  said  I  had  no  fear,  as  I 
fully  trusted  Dona  Marina,  but  I  trem- 
bled just  the  same,  and,  when  I  reached 
home  at  six  o'clock,  I  went  to  the  stairs 
and  called  in  a  shaky  voice :  "  Dona 
Marina,  are  you  up-stairs? "  and  when 
the  answer  came,  "  I  am  here,"  I  fairly 
flew  up  the  stairs,  and  there,  to  my  great 
joy,  was  Blondell  happy  in  her  cage  and 
my  little  black  lady  stretched  out  full 
length  on  my  bed,  greeting  me  with  lov- 
ing eyes  and  a  sweet  song.  Since  that 
day  I  never  gave  her  a  thought.  She 
sits  on  the  table  by  the  cage  and  looks 

130 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

at  Blondell,  never  putting  up  a  paw, 
and  lies  down  and  goes  to  sleep  by  the 
side  of  her. 

Dona  Marina  very  seldom  walks  on 
the  floor;  she  simply  flies  through  the 
air.  She  comes  on  a  run  from  the 
kitchen,  lands  in  the  middle  of  the  din- 
ing-room table,  then  jumps  into  a  chair 
by  the  back  parlour  door,  into  a  chair 
in  the  back  parlour,  into  another  chair, 
then  on  top  of  the  table.  If  she  is  on 
her  way  up-stairs,  she  makes  one  grand 
leap,  which  lands  her  in  the  front  parlour 
by  the  door  going  into  the  hall.  She 
never  pauses,  but  on  she  flies  up  the 
stairs  into  my  room,  over  the  top  of  the 
bird-cage,  on  to  my  work-table,  and  sits 
down,  as  if  it  were  the  only  way  to  enter 
a  room. 

She  is  a  very  intelligent  cat,  and  I 
often  wish  she  did  not  know  so  much. 
Like  all  my  pets,  she  is  spoiled,  and  does 
everything  she  wishes  to.  Last  spring 
she  had  her  first  kittens,  and  I,  of  course, 
131 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

was  the  trained  nurse,  and  such  a  time 
as  I  had.  As  four  babies  were  too  many 
for  me  to  have  up-stairs,  two  were  taken 
away  at  once  and  put  in  a  pail  of  water. 
Then  my  trouble  began.  She  took  on  so, 
and  seemed  to  think  I  could  bring  them 
back,  and  would  not  give  me  any  peace 
until  I  fished  them  out  of  the  water, 
dried  them  on  a  towel,  and  brought  them 
into  the  parlour.  She  took  them  at  once 
up  to  my  dressing-room.  She  had  her 
bed  in  a  nice  basket,  with  linen  sheets, 
in  an  old-fashioned  chest.  After  a  few 
minutes,  I  brought  them  down  and  she 
came  for  them.  After  taking  them  back 
three  times,  she  found  she  could '  not 
bring  them  to  life,  and  gave  up.  When 
I  had  gotten  into  bed,  she  came  to  me, 
talked,  then  went  back  to  her  babies. 
After  keeping  at  me  for  a  half -hour, 
and  I  did  not  make  any  move  to  get  up, 
she  came  and  took  right  hold  of  my  chin. 
After  she  bit  me  three  times,  I  thought 
I  had  better  get  up  and  see  what  she 

132 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

wanted.  She  soon  made  me  understand 
she  wanted  the  basket  taken  out  and  put 
on  my  bed,  so  no  one  could  get  her 
babies.  I  did  so,  putting  a  kimono  on 
the  foot  and  covering  the  basket.  She 
got  into  the  basket,  and  there  was  no 
more  trouble.  I  did  that  for  two  nights, 
and  then  she  seemed  to  think  there  was 
no  more  danger  and  she  stayed  in  the 
chest. 

One  night  she  insisted  upon  my  getting 
up  at  three  o'clock.  I  thought  she  must 
be  hungry,  and  went  into  my  dressing- 
room  and  saw  that  there  was  no  milk  in 
her  dish.  I  also  felt  there  was  a  great 
change  in  the  weather  and  saw  the 
ground  was  covered  with  snow,  so  I  put 
down  the  windows,  then  went  down-stairs 
after  the  milk.  When  I  came  back,  I 
found  Dona  Marina  in  the  basket  with 
her  kittens,  looking  very  happy.  I  of- 
fered her  the  milk,  and  she  said :  "  No, 
thank  you.  It  was  too  cold  for  my 
darlings,  and  all  I  wanted  was  the  win- 
133 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

dow  put  down."  I  could  have  choked 
her  with  a  good  will. 

When  it  was  time  for  her  children  to 
learn  to  get  out  of  the  basket,  she  lifted 
them  out  and  put  them  on  the  floor,  and 
asked  me  to  take  the  basket.  One  was 
black  as  coal,  and  the  other  maltese. 
The  black  one  we  named  "  Ping,"  and 
the  gray  one  "  Pong,"  and  they  were 
very  different  in  all  their  ways. 

My  trials  began  when  their  mother 
thought  they  needed  something  more 
than  milk.  Every  one  said:  "  You  want 
to  look  out  for  Blondell,  now  Dona 
Marina  has  her  kittens,"  but  she  went 
outdoors  for  all  of  her  game,  and  the 
dear  baby  birds  she  used  to  bring  in  al- 
most broke  my  heart.  She  would  bring 
them  to  me  first,  but,  if  they  were  not 
dead,  they  were  wounded  so  they  soon 
died. 

One  day  she  carried  a  large  fish  up 
to  them  just  as  the  man  brought  it  in 
the  paper.  When  they  were  four  weeks 

134 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

old,  she  thought  they  ought  to  sleep  on 
the  foot  of  my  bed  instead  of  in  their 
basket.  I  was  determined  I  would  not 
give  in  to  her,  but,  after  keeping  me 
awake  until  after  two  o'clock  one  night, 
I  said:  "  Go  bring  your  babies,  and  we 
will  all  go  to  sleep."  After  that  they 
slept  on  the  foot  of  my  bed  until  they 
were  given  to  a  very  nice  little  girl  when 
they  were  two  months  old. 

Dona  Marina  mourned  for  them  for 
two  weeks,  and  would  carry  up  food  in 
mouthfuls  and  look  all  over  for  them. 

Two  months  ago  Dona  Marina  pre- 
sented me  with  four  more  babies,  which 
was  a  little  more  than  I  had  bargained 
for.  Two  were  taken  from  her  before 
she  hardly  had  time  to  count,  so  she  did 
not  make  as  much  fuss  as  she  did  the 
first  time. 

A   little   girl   came   to   see   them,   and 

said:    "  Why  don't  you  name  them  after 

their  mother?  "    I  said:    "  I  do  not  think 

it  would  be  nice  to  call  them  both  Dona 

135 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

Marina."  She  said:  "Oh,  no;  call  one 
Dona  and  the  other  Marina." 

Dona  is  twice  the  size  of  Marina,  is 
black  and  white,  and  looks  like  a  little 
circus  pony.  Marina  is  most  beautifully 
marked.  Her  head,  back,  and  tail  are 
black,  face  black,  also  her  legs,  white 
whiskers,  and  a  tiny  white  line  between 
the  eyes.  Under  her  chin  white  about 
as  wide  as  your  finger,  then  broadens 
and  goes  half  down  the  neck,  broadens 
out  again,  narrows  at  the  breast  bone, 
broadens  again,  and  goes  all  the  way 
down.  She  has  four  white  paws,  so  you 
see  she  has  a  very  swell  black  and  white 
costume. 

Marina  is  full  of  mischief,  but  very 
affectionate.  Dona  is  much  more  quiet 
and  dignified,  but  is  also  affectionate, 
and  loves  to  have  me  take  him  on  my 
shoulder. 

They  were  born  in  the  same  basket, 
and  Dona  Marina  went  through  the  same 
performance  about  taking  them  out  when 

136 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

it  was  time  to  have  the  basket  on  the 
floor,  also  the  same  performance  about 
sleeping  on  the  foot  of  my  bed,  and, 
of  course,  I  had  to  give  in  to  her. 

At  the  present  time  Marina  is  on  my 
lap  and  Dona  on  my  shoulder.  They 
have  full  sway  of  the  house,  and  what 
they  cannot  do  is  not  worth  doing. 

One  day  when  I  came  in,  I  thought 
there  must  have  been  an  army  of  children 
in  the  parlours,  by  the  sight  that  met 
my  eyes.  All  the  books  from  the  lower 
shelf  of  the  bookcase  were  on  the  floor. 
They  had  gotten  up  on  the  magazine 
table  and  thrown  all  the  magazines  on 
the  floor.  Sofa  pillows  were  everywhere 
but  where  they  ought  to  be.  A  large 
corn-cob  in  the  front  parlour,  and  corn- 
husks  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  with 
scraps  of  paper  in  every  direction,  and 
Dona  and  Marina  fast  asleep  in  the 
empty  scrap-basket,  while  their  mother 
lay  curled  up  in  an  easy-chair. 

During  the  day  they  go  outdoors  and 
137 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

all  over  the  house,  but  when  the  house  is 
lighted,  they  seem  to  think  up-stairs  is 
the  place  for  them. 

We  have  had  great  fun  catching  flies. 
They  come  and  ask  me  to  help  them.  I 
take  my  handkerchief,  and,  when  I  get 
a  fly  in  it,  they  come  and  take  it  out,  and 
sometimes  there  is  quite  a  fight  to  see 
which  gets  it. 

I  was  in  hopes  to  have  had  many  in- 
teresting things  to  tell  about  Dona  and 
Marina,  but  a  friend  came  for  them 
to-day,  and  I  could  not  say  "  No  "  again, 
as  I  had  promised  them  when  they  were 
wee  babies,  but  I  shall  miss  them  greatly, 
and  I  feel  very  sad  and  lonely  to-night 
without  my  baby  pets. 


138 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 


CHAPTER    IX. 

BOBBINETTE   AND    BOBBY TWO    ORPHANS 

THOSE  who  have  been  fortunate 
enough  to  have  read  that  charming  little 
story  of  "  Bobby  and  Bobbinette,"  by 
Mrs.  Talbot,  will  know  where  I  found 
these  names.  Instead  of  being  two  New 
York  children,  they  are  two  Seneca  Falls 
robins,  but  the  names  fit  as  if  made  to 
order,  as  they  are  just  as  different  as 
the  original  Bobby  and  Bobbinette.  Bob- 
binette rules  Bob  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and 
he  meekly  does  as  he  is  bid. 

One  bright  morning  in  May,  as  I 
came  into  the  yard,  I  saw  Dona  Ma- 
rina sitting  on  the  front  piazza  charming 
a  nice,  plump  baby  robin,  who  was 
perched  on  a  water-pipe  not  three  feet 
139 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

away.  She  was  opening  and  shutting 
her  mouth,  making  that  hissing  sound, 
and  her  large  green  eyes  were  fairly 
glued  to  the  robin's  black  ones.  Just  as 
she  was  ready  to  spring,  I  called  out 
sharply:  "Dona  Marina,  you  wicked 
cat,  don't  you  dare  catch  that  baby  bird." 
She  turned  around  in  the  most  leisurely 
way,  and  came  to  meet  me  with  the  air 
of  the  innocent. 

If  I  had  not  seen  her  with  my  own 
eyes,  I  never  should  have  suspected  she 
had  the  least  designs  on  the  bird.  The 
mother  bird  was  calling  and  screeching 
with  rage  in  a  tree  near  by.  As  soon 
as  Dona  Marina's  back  was  turned,  the 
frightened  bird  hopped  down,  and  went 
around  in  the  back  yard  as  fast  as  her 
baby  legs  could  carry  her. 

After  telling  Dona  Marina  just  what 
I  thought  of  her  conduct,  I  went  after 
the  baby,  and  finally  caught  her.  But, 
when  I  brought  her  back  to  the  street, 
there  was  no  mother  bird  anywhere  to 

140 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

be  seen  or  heard,  and  she  evidently 
thought  her  darling  had  gone  down  Dona 
Marina's  throat. 

I  then  told  the  little  stranger  that  she 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  head  nurse  of 
"  The  Bird  Hospital,"  and  would  re- 
ceive the  best  of  care.  I  at  once  put 
her  into  a  nice  little  cot,  and  covered  her, 
as  it  is  best  to  keep  wild  or  strange  birds 
in  the  dark  for  at  least  two  days,  until 
they  get .  used  to  you  and  their  environ- 
ments. 

My  new  patient  was  very  hungry,  so 
I  had  no  trouble  in  getting  her  to  take 
the  cracker  soaked  in  milk.  The  third 
day  I  put  her  into  a  canary  cage  (but 
covered),  as  I  thought  I  better  try  and 
teach  her  to  stay  in  a  cage  some  of  the 
time,  and  not  always  have  her  liberty, 
as  the  dear  departed  Cady  did.  She 
behaved  unusually  well,  and  I  kept  her 
in  that  for  several  days,  taking  her  out 
many  times  to  stretch  and  flop  her  wings. 

I  was  then  fortunate  enough  to  have 
141 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

a  large  parrot  cage  loaned  me.  She 
showed  great  delight  when  I  put  her  in, 
as  she  had  plenty  of  room  to  go  about, 
and  did  not  show  the  slightest  desire  to 
get  out.  I  knew  she  could  if  she  wished, 
as  the  brass  wires  were  very  wide  apart. 

I  was  detained  down-stairs,  and  it  was 
later  than  usual  when  I  went  up  to  put 
her  to  bed  in  her  cot.  As  I  went  into 
the  room,  I  saw  there  was  no  baby  bird 
in  the  cage. 

I  called  out:  "  Oh,  my  baby  has 
gone,"  and  a  very  mournful  peep  came 
back  to  me,  which  plainly  said:  "  I  am 
over  here  in  this  dark  corner."  She  had 
evidently  tried  to  find  me,  but  did  not 
know  the  way  down-stairs.  That  was 
the  first  and  last  time  she  ever  ran  away. 

Blondell  and  Dona  Marina  had  been 
the  only  occupants  in  the  hospital  for 
three  years,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
stray  patients  who  only  lived  a  very  short 
time. 

At  first  Dona  Marina  did  not  know 

142 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

what  to  make  of  the  robin.  She  knew  it 
was  entirely  different  from  Blondell, 
and  watched  it  hopping  all  over  the  floor 
with  the  greatest  interest,  as  Blondell 
usually  stayed  in  her  cage.  For  a  few 
days  I  watched  her  very  carefully  when 
the  robin  was  on  the  floor,  but  she  soon 
understood  she  was  not  to  touch  it,  and 
would  lie  on  the  rug  and  go  to  sleep, 
while  the  robin  played  about  her. 

Two  weeks  after  I  rescued  the  robin 
from  the  jaws  of  death,  I  saw  another 
baby  robin  in  the  back  yard.  The  flood- 
gates of  heaven  were  opened  wide,  and 
the  rain  coming  down  in  perfect  tor- 
rents. I  could  not  see  or  hear  any  father 
or  mother  bird,  but  there  was  a  large 
white  cat  who  had  his  eyes  upon  her.  I 
spent  most  of  my  time  for  an  hour  with 
one  eye  on  the  bird  and  the  other  on  the 
cat.  At  last  I  succeeded  in  frightening 
the  cat  away,  and,  as  it  grew  dark,  the 
bird  flew  up  on  to  the  grape-vine,  then 
into  a  small  tree.  It  had  not  stopped 
143 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

raining  one  minute,  and  I  could  not  bear 
to  think  of  that  dear  baby  up  in  a  tree 
all  night  alone,  with  a  prospect  of  the 
white  cat  making  his  breakfast  upon  it. 

When  it  became  quite  dark,  I  took  a 
chair  out  under  the  tree,  stood  up  on  it, 
reached  up  and  put  my  hand  over  the 
bird.  I  soon  found  it  had  good  lungs, 
and  also  found  it  was  a  beauty,  so  did 
not  mind  being  covered  with  mud  and 
getting  almost  as  wet  as  the  bird.  I  felt 
sure  it  was  a  male  bird,  and  that  the  first 
one  was  a  female,  as  that  was  so  much 
lighter  in  colouring. 

I  dried  orphan  number  two,  and  put 
him  to  sleep  in  a  cot,  just  as  I  did  orphan 
number  one.  The  next  morning  I  told 
her  all  that  I  have  told  to  you,  then 
brought  the  little  stranger  and  put  him 
inside  the  cage,  expecting  she  would  be 
more  than  pleased  to  have  a  relative  for 
a  companion,  but,  alas,  no.  I  never  was 
more  mistaken  in  my  life.  She  put  up 
all  the  feathers  in  her  crest,  looking  like 

144 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

a  wild  "  Indian,"  spread  her  wings,  and 
was  not  only  ready  to  fight,  but  pitched 
right  in.  The  little  stranger  was  more 
afraid  of  her  than  he  was  of  the  white 
cat,  and  it  did  not  take  him  many  sec- 
onds to  get  out  between  the  bars,  and 
fly  to  me  for  protection.  But,  after  a 
few  days,  they  became  good  friends,  and 
slept  every  night  in  the  cage  side  by  side 
in  the  swing. 

Then  came  a  great  discussion,  "  What 
shall  I  name  the  robins?  "  but  it  was  set- 
tled for  me  by  having  the  little  book  I 
spoke  of  sent  me. 

When  Dona  Marina  saw  robin  number 
two,  she  acted  as  if  she  thought  there 
were  .getting  to  be  more  robins  in  the 
hospital  than  she  cared  to  see,  but  when 
number  three  arrived,  her  eyes  grew 
larger  than  ever,  and  she  seemed  to  say: 
"  Will  they  never  cease  coming? " 

I  was  unusually  busy  when  a  friend 
came  with  a  box.  I  said :  "I  hope  you 
have  not  brought  anything  for  me  to 
145 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

take  care  of,  as  I  am  almost  frantic 
now."  She  said:  "  Only  a  baby  robin." 
I  held  up  my  hands  and  exclaimed: 
"But  I  already  have  two."  She  said: 
"  I  did  not  know  what  else  to  do  with 
it.  It  fell  out  of  the  nest,  and  I  could 
not  take  care  of  it,  and  I  knew  you 
would." 

The  poor  little  thing  could  not  even 
stand  up,  and  all  it  knew  was  to  open 
its  big  bill  and  cry  for  food.  Of  course 
I  was  simply  obliged  to  keep  it. 

Few  people  have  the  slightest  idea  of 
the  care  and  trouble  of  a  wild  baby  bird. 
I  did  not  want  it  to  starve  to  death,  so 
every  few  moments  I  put  cracker  and 
milk  down  that  yawning  cavity.  The 
last  thing  before  I  got  into  bed  at  twelve 
o'clock  I  fed  it,  and  I  got  up  and  fed 
it  every  two  hours  during  the  night.  I 
was  almost  in  hopes  it  might  die,  but, 
when  morning  came,  it  was  as  lively  as 
a  cricket.  I  at  once  named  the  third 
orphan  Bebe,  and  for  two  weeks  it  gave 

146 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

to  me  the  greatest  pleasure,  as  well  as 
constant  care. 

Bobbinette  and  Bobby  simply  hated 
the  little  stranger,  and  would  not  have 
the  slightest  thing  to  do  with  her.  If 
I  put  her  into  their  cage,  they  would 
immediately  chase  her  out.  She  would 
fall  on  to  the  floor,  as  she  could  not  fly, 
and  get  out  of  their  way  as  quickly  as 
her  weak  little  legs  could  carry  her. 
Every  little  while  during  the  day,  I 
would  put  her  into  her  little  white  cot 
for  a  nap,  and  she  would  go  to  sleep  at 
once. 

Every  day  she  grew  stronger,  and  be- 
fore many  days  could  run  about  as  fast 
as  Bobbinette  and  Bobby,  but  she  could 
not  fly. 

At  that  time  Dona  Marina  gave  birth 
to  two  beautiful  kittens,  consequently 
she  was  in  the  hospital  most  of  the  day 
as  well  as  the  night.  At  first  I  was 
afraid  Dona  Marina  might  hurt  Bebe, 
as  Bebe  could  not  fly,  and  was  usually 
147 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

on  the  floor  when  she  was  not  taking  her 
nap. 

All  there  was  to  do  was  to  make  Dona 
Marina  fully  understand  she  was  not  to 
hurt  or  even  frighten  Bebe. 

I  put  Dona  Marina  on  a  chair,  then 
put  Bebe  beside  her.  By  the  way  Bob- 
binette  and  Bobby  cocked  their  pretty 
heads  and  puffed  out  their  breasts,  I 
knew  they  were  thoroughly  enjoying 
hearing  me  tell  Dona  Marina  how  very 
naughty  they  had  been  to  Bebe,  and  that 
she  must  be  very  kind  to  the  little 
stranger,  help  take  good  care  of  her,  and 
make  her  happy.  Dona  Marina  nodded 
her  wise  little  head,  and  blinked  her  in- 
telligent eyes  at  me,  smelled  Bebe  all 
over,  but  never  offered  to  bite  her.  In 
cat  language  she  said  she  would  always 
be  kind,  and  try  to  take  the  place  of 
her  lost  mother,  and  she  kept  her  prom- 
ise. From  that  day  they  were  together 
almost  constantly,  Dona  Marina  lying 
on  a  chair  or  on  the  floor  (when  she  was 

148 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

not  giving  her  babies  their  dinner,  as  it 
was  too  warm  weather  to  stay  with  them 
all  the  time) ,  with  Bebe  playing  all  about 
her. 

When  Bobbinette  and  Bobby  felt  very 
good-natured,  they  would  ask  Bebe  to 
play  with  them  on  the  floor,  but  never 
would  let  her  go  inside  their  cage.  If 
Dona  Marina  was  trying  to  take  a  nap, 
they  would  hop  all  about  her,  chirp  as 
loud  as  they  could,  and  tell  Bebe  to  go 
and  pull  her  tail,  which  she  often  did. 
Dona  Marina  would  open  her  eyes,  smile 
at  her,  close  them,  give  a  good  stretch, 
and  go  to  sleep  again. 

When  Bebe  would  hear  Dona  Marina 
and  me  coming  up  the  stairs,  she  would 
run  out  into  the  hall  to  meet  us,  hop 
along  by  Dona  Marina's  side  into  the 
dressing-room,  hop  on  to  the  edge  of  her 
dish,  and  drink  milk  with  her,  and  Dona 
Marina  never  gave  her  a  cross  look. 

We  feel  sure  if  Bebe  had  lived  until 
the  cot  with  the  kittens  in  it  was  put 
149 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

on  the  floor,  she  would  have  gotten  right 
in  and  gone  to  sleep  with  them.  But 
dear  Bebe's  life  was  far  too  short  for 
me,  but  plenty  long  for  Bobbinette  and 
Bobby. 

One  afternoon  while  I  was  out,  Bebe 
must  have  felt  badly,  and  went  down- 
stairs to  look  for  me.  She  found  her 
way  into  my  mother's  room  and  woke 
her  with  her  peeping.  My  mother  spoke 
to  her,  but  she  knew  it  was  not  the  voice 
she  was  accustomed  to,  and  tried  to  find 
her  way  back.  She  was  dreadfully 
frightened  when  she  was  finally  caught, 
for  she  also  knew  it  was  not  the  hand 
that  fondled  her.  When  I  returned,  I 
saw  at  once  there  was  something  wrong 
with  my  baby  bird,  as  a  very  bad  odour 
was  coming  from  her  breath.  I  did  all 
I  could,  put  her  to  bed,  and  she  seemed 
all  right.  The  next  morning  she  grew 
worse  again,  and  in'  a  few  moments  was 
nothing  but  a  ball  of  pretty  lifeless 
feathers.  I  felt  sure  she  died  of  blood 

150 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

poison  from  the  angleworms  that  were 
forced  down  her  throat  before  she  was 
brought  to  the  hospital.  The  mother 
birds  always  kill  the  worms  before  feed- 
ing to  their  birdlings. 

After  Bobbinette  had  been  in  the  hos- 
pital a  week,  as  a  great  honour,  I  pre- 
sented Cady's  blue  and  white  china  bath- 
dish  to  her.  She  acknowledged  the  com- 
pliment by  going  right  in  and  taking  a 
nice  bath.  When  Bobby  arrived,  he  did 
not  even  wait  to  be  asked  to  make  use 
of  the  bath-tub,  but  took  possession  at 
once.  After  that,  Bobbinette  positively 
refused  to  take  her  bath  in  it.  Every 
day  when  I  offered  it  to  her,  she  would 
hop  on  to  the  edge,  then  fly  away,  go 
into  the  cage,  scold,  and  try  to  make  me 
understand  what  she  meant.  If  I  held 
the  dish  up  to  her,  she  would  hop  on, 
take  a  drink,  and  away  she  would  go. 

This  went  on  for  two  weeks,  then  all 
at  once  it  flashed  through  my  stupid 

151 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

brain  that  she  had  no  intention  of  taking 
a  bath  in  the  same  dish  Bobby  did. 

I  immediately  went  down-stairs,  and 
came  back  with  an  oval  white  vegetable 
dish,  and  said:  "  Bobbinette,  how  would 
you  like  this  for  your  very  own?"  She 
was  wild  with  delight,  and  could  hardly 
wait  until  it  was  filled;  in  fact,  got  in 
before  the  water  was  put  in.  I  assure 
you  she  took  a  good  long  bath  to  make 
up  for  the  two  weeks  she  had  been  with- 
out. 

The  next  morning,  when  I  put  the 
blue  dish  down  for  Bob  and  the  white 
one  for  Bobbinette,  that  impertinent  and 
presuming  fellow  had  the  face  to  go  over 
to  Bobbinette 's  dish  and  say:  "  I  think 
I  will  try  the  white  one  for  a  change," 
and  hopped  on  with  a  very  grand  air; 
but  he  hopped  off  much  quicker  than  he 
hopped  on,  for  Bobbinette  flew  at  him 
and  took  feathers  out  of  the  top  of  his 
head.  When  she  sees  him,  she  will  never 
let  him  go  near  her  dish,  but  often  she 

152 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

does  not  see  him,  and,  if  I  am  not  there, 
he  will  take  part  of  his  bath  in  hers,  then 
the  rest  in  his  own. 

Lately  I  have  made  it  a  point  to  be 
there  until  he  finishes,  for  I  cannot  sup- 
ply a  new  dish  for  Bobbinette  every  few 
days. 

They  like  to  have  me  play  with  them 
by  throwing  the  water  at  them,  just  as 
Cady  did,  and,  if  I  sing  and  keep  time 
by  rapping  the  dish,  Bob  will  sing  with 
me. 

Bob  would  take  a  bath  twice  a  day 
if  I  would  let  him,  but  Bobbinette  some- 
times does  not  take  one  for  two  or  three 
days.  You  see  she  got  into  bad  habits 
the  weeks  she  went  without. 

It  had  rained  most  of  the  time  before 
Bobbinette  and  Bobby  came  to  the  hos- 
pital to  live,  and  no  doubt  they  had  been 
soaked  to  the  skin  many  times.  When 
it  was  too  late,  I  found  I  ought  not  to 
have  let  them  bathe,  for  they  both  had 
bad  colds.  I  did  not  know  what  the 
153 


THE    BIRD    HOSPITAL 

matter  was  until  they  began  to  cough, 
sneeze,  and  make  all  sorts  of  disagreeable 
noises.  They  would  have  driven  any  one 
who  was  nervous  about  wild,  and  they 
really  annoyed  me,  who  am  not,  and  kept 
me  awake  many  nights.  I  had  never  had 
birds  act  as  they  did,  for  they  were  dif- 
ferent from  a  bird  with  the  asthma. 
Some  of  my  friends  who  knew  about 
chickens  said  they  had  the  "  pip,"  others 
the  "  gapes,"  and  told  me  to  do  this,  that, 
and  the  other  thing,  but  they  kept  grow- 
ing worse  instead  of  better.  Finally  I 
wrote  to  my  old  standby,  George 
Holden,  and  asked  what  to  do,  as  I  felt 
it  was  high  time  to  have  a  good  counsel. 
They  had  already  been  eating  his  bird 
food.  He  wrote  to  me:  "Do  not  pay 
any  attention  to  the  noise  the  robins 
make,  add  more  carrot  to  their  food,  give 
them  plenty  of  green  food,  and  let  them 
have  all  they  want  to  eat;  keep  them 
warm,  and  they  will  come  out  all  right." 
I  followed  his  advice,  and,  after  many 

154* 


THE    BIRD   HOSPITAL 

trying  weeks,  they  entirely  recovered. 
This  case  was  the  longest,  except  Ted- 
dy's, the  hospital  ever  had. 

When  Bobby  moulted,  his  feathers 
came  in  as  fast  as  they  came  out,  but 
Bobbinette  must  have  had  a  high  fever, 
for,  when  some  of  hers  came  out,  no  new 
ones  came  in.  From  her  shoulders  to 
the  top  of  her  head  she  did  not  have  a 
feather  for  two  months.  She  would 
scratch  her  head  and  pick  her  wings  most 
of  the  time. 

One  day  I  looked  her  over  carefully, 
and  found  the  under  part  of  her  wings 
red  and  inflamed,  while  on  the  top  of  her 
head  was  a  crust  similar  to  the  milk  crust 
babies  have. 

I  immediately  rubbed  dry  sulphur  all 
over  her  head  and  under  parts  of  her 
wings,  and  kept  it  up  for  two  weeks. 
By  the  time  it  was  warm  weather,  and 
their  colds  seemed  cured,  I  let  them  have 
their  bath  again,  and  how  much  they 
enjoyed  them  only  they  can  tell.  Then 
155 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

the  crust  began  to  leave  Bobbinette's 
head,  as  well  as  all  of  her  crest  feathers, 
until  only  three  remained,  and  for  weeks 
no  new  ones  came  in.  It  was  very  amus- 
ing, when  Bobbinette  became  very  angry 
and  began  to  scold,  to  see  those  three 
feathers  stand  straight  up  as  proud  as  if 
there  were  three  dozen. 

Bobby  is  always  dignified  and  rarely 
loses  his  temper  or  ruffles  his  plumage, 
while  Bobbinette  very  often  gets  mad, 
scolds  you,  strutting  about  with  breast 
feathers  all  puffed  out,  and  the  feathers 
on  her  head  standing  up  and  her  tail 
going  like  a  little  wren.  If  Bobby  is 
taking  a  drink  of  water,  and  Bobbinette 
wants  some,  she  never  says,  "  By  your 
leave,"  or  waits  a  second,  but  coolly  takes 
him  by  the  feathers  of  his  head  and  puts 
him  away,  and  takes  possession  of  the 
water.  But  Bob  is  much  more  destruc- 
tive than  Bobbinette.  They  eat  off  of 
pretty  Vantine  china,  and  drank  their 
water  out  of  thin  whiskey  glasses  until 

156 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

Bob  broke  four  by  taking  them  up  in 
his  bill  and  dropping  them  down  on  his 
bath-dish  to  hear  them  make  a  ringing 
sound.  Now  I  make  them  use  a  little 
earthen  jar,  that  is  good  and  strong,  and 
only  favour  them  with  a  glass  to  drink 
their  milk  out  of  when  they  go  down  to 
the  parlour  for  their  singing  lesson. 

One  day  Bob  took  a  lovely  china  pin- 
tray  off  of  my  dressing-table  and  threw 
it  on  the  floor,  breaking  it  in  many 
pieces.  Another  day  I  found  him  out 
in  the  hall  with  my  string  of  gold  beads, 
shaking  them  as  if  he  thought  they  were 
an  angle-worm.  He  had  bitten  two 
beads  until  they  were  almost  flat.  Like 
many  small  boys,  he  thinks  matches  are 
about  the  nicest  things  to  play  with,  and 
I  often  find  them  thrown  in  all  direc- 
tions. 

Dona  Marina's  kittens  had  been  given 

away   before   they   were   old   enough   to 

take   much   notice   of   Blondell,   but   her 

new  kittens,  Blonde  and  Brunette,  lived 

157 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

with  the  birds  many  weeks.  Blonde  was 
white  with  tortoise-shell  markings,  and 
twice  as  large  as  Brunette,  who  was  just 
like  her  black  mother. 

Blonde  was  gentle  in  all  of  her  ways, 
while  Brunette  was  just  the  opposite. 
Blonde  would  wake  me  in  the  morning 
by  gently  tapping  my  cheek  with  her  big, 
soft  white  paw.  Brunette  would  come 
with  a  rush  and  land  on  the  top  of  my 
head.  I  did  not  have  the  least  trouble 
in  teaching  Blonde  not  to  spring  at  the 
birds,  but  I  had  a  great  deal  with  Bru- 
nette before  I  could  make  her  under- 
stand that  she  was  not  to  slap  them  with 
her  tiny  black  velvet  paw. 

One  day  I  was  really  surprised  myself 
when  I  went  into  the  room  to  find  Blonde 
sound  asleep  in  front  of  Blondell's  cage 
on  the  platform,  Brunette  asleep  in  the 
gravel,  and  Bobbinette  and  Bobby  on  the 
perches  above  them.  It  proved  they  had 
learned  their  lessons  well,  and  I  never 
worried  about  them  after  that. 

158 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

I  was  very  anxious  to  get  a  picture 
of  them  altogether,  so  had  the  old  perches 
brought  up  that  had  been  put  away  so 
long.  For  a  week  I  posed  them  every 
day.  Dona  Marina  on  "  Teddy's  pi- 
azza," Blonde  in  the  side  with  the  food, 
Brunette  in  the  gravel,  Bobbinette  and 
Bobby  on  the  perches,  and  Blondell  in 
her  usual  place.  It  made  a  pretty  pic- 
ture, I  assure  you. 

The  photographer  was  very  busy,  and 
by  the  time  he  could  come,  it  was  impos- 
sible to  have  Dona  Marina  in  the  group, 
as  she  had  weaned  her  babies  and  hated 
every  hair  in  their  dear  little  bodies. 
For  two  weeks  she  did  nothing  but  growl 
and  spit  every  time  she  saw  them,  be- 
sides slapping  them  hard  if  they  came 
within  her  reach.  Brunette  would  slap 
back,  but  lovable  little  Blonde  would  look 
at  her  in  a  sad,  astonished  way. 

One  day,  when  Dona  Marina  came  in 
and  could  not  find  her  babies,  after  look- 
ing all  over  the  lower  part  of  the  house, 
159 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

she  fairly  beamed,  and  we  never  heard 
another  growl,  but  it  was  many  weeks 
before  she  went  to  the  hospital. 

One  day  I  tried  carrying  her  up,  but 
she  fought  so  hard  I  had  to  let  her  go. 
I  tried  again,  and  got  her  inside  and 
put  her  on  the  bed.  She  smelled  it  all 
over,  then  simply  flew  out,  and  down- 
stairs she  went.  The  next  time  when  I 
got  her  inside,  I  closed  the  door.  When 
she  found  she  could  not  get  out,  she  ex- 
amined every  corner,  went  under  every- 
thing, and,  when  she  finally  made  up  her 
mind  there  were  no  kittens  hidden  away, 
she  jumped  into  my  lap  and  began  to 
sing.  She  wants  to  be  all  in  all  to  me, 
and  is  jealous  of  everything  and  every- 
body. 

But  to  go  back  to  the  picture,  that  was 
a  day  long  to  be  remembered.  When 
I  asked  the  photographer  to  take  it,  he 
looked  at  me  as  if  he  thought  I  had  just 
escaped  from  a  lunatic  hospital,  and  said: 
"  I  can  take  a  picture  of  a  bird  or  a  cat, 

160 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

but  to  take  one  of  birds  and  cats  together, 
I  think  it  would  be  quite  impossible." 
I  was  determined  if  possible  to  have  the 
picture  taken,  so  said:  "  But  you  do  not 
know  me,  my  cats,  or  my  birds." 

At  last  he  came  to  please  me,  not  ex- 
pecting to  get  any  kind  of  a  picture.  I 
told  him  to  come  right  after  luncheon, 
as  Blonde  and  Brunette  were  sleepy  at 
that  time,  but  instead,  it  was  between 
four  and  five  o'clock.  Bobbinette  and 
Bob  had  only  been  used  to  our  boy  com- 
ing into  the  hospital,  so,  when  two  men 
appeared,  it  was  quite  enough  to  frighten 
the  wits  out  of  them,  but  their  bringing 
all  of  their  machines  made  it  ten  times 
worse.  They  flew  here,  there,  and  every- 
where, out  into  the  hall,  back  again, 
lighting  upon  my  head  and  shoulders. 
It  took  a  long  time  to  get  them  quiet, 
but  the  men  made  as  little  noise  as  pos- 
sible, and  were  very  patient. 

After  Bobbinette  and  Bobby  became 
a  little  used  to  them,  I  looked  up  Blonde 
161 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

and  Brunette.  They  were  just  fresh 
from  their  nap,  and  wanted  to  do  any- 
thing but  mind  and  sit  still.  Several 
times  I  thought  it  was  going  to  be  even 
beyond  me  to  get  them  all  quiet  at  once. 

At  last  it  was  accomplished.  Bang! 
went  the  machine,  vivid  light,  dense 
smoke,  Bobbinette  and  Bobby  flying  in 
every  direction  and  screeching  as  only 
robins  can;  Blonde  and  Brunette  run- 
ning all  over  the  floor,  growling,  spitting, 
and  hissing,  but  the  deed  was  done. 
When  we  saw  the  picture,  we  all  felt 
repaid  for  our  trouble,  and  the  birds  and 
kittens  for  being  so  frightened.  And  the 
photographer,  by  the  way,  found  after 
all  that  he  could  take  a  picture  of  birds 
and  kittens  together. 

That  was  the  beginning  of  quite  a 
little  work,  which  took  a  great  deal  of 
time,  nervous  strength,  and  patience, 
but  with  it  all  we  derived  a  great  deal 
of  pleasure,  and  the  birds  seemed  to  thor- 
oughly enjoy  being  naughty. 

162 


BLONDE  BOBBY  BLONDELL 

BOBBINETTE 

BRUNETTE 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

Just  at  this  time  a  young  Italian  came 
to  town,  fresh  from  a  school  of  photog- 
raphy, who  had  plenty  of  time  to  give 
to  us.  His  kindness  and  patience  was 
fully  appreciated  and  never  will  be  for- 
gotten. The  birds  liked  him,  too,  as  he 
was  always  gentle^  spoke  kindly,  and 
never  a  cross  word  did  we  hear,  no  matter 
how  provoking  they  were.  The  group 
with  Bobbinette  and  Bobby,  Dick,  Dona 
Marina,  Blondell  and  me  took  two  whole 
evenings  to  get. 

Just  as  the  photographer  would  think 
they  were  all  in  good  position,  Bobbi- 
nette would  turn  her  back;  then,  when 
she  turned  around,  Bobby  would  get 
down  and  go  out  into  the  back  parlour. 
As  no  one  could  manage  them  but  me, 
I  would  have  to  get  up,  taking  Dick  and 
Blondell  in  my  left  hand,  Dona  Marina 
under  my  left  arm,  and  go  after  Bobby. 
Dona  Marina  did  not  care  how  many 
birds  were  on  her  back  if  she  could  lie 
on  my  lap,  but  Blondell  was  as  slippery 
163 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

as  an  eel,  and,  when  all  the  others  were 
ready,  off  from  Dona  Marina's  back  she 
would  go,  and  I  would  have  to  get  down 
again  and  go  after  her,  holding  tight 
to  Dick  and  Dona  Marina. 

One  day  during  summer  we  had  a 
patient  the  like  of  which  we  had  never 
had  before.  It  was  a  wee  brown  puppy, 
but  where  she  came  from  we  never  found 
out.  Her  coming  was  heralded  by  Dona 
Marina's  jumping  on  to  her  back  and 
slapping  and  biting  her.  The  birds  and 
I  rushed  to  the  window  when  we  heard 
the  noise;  the  puppy  was  crying  lustily, 
as  she  was  too  young  to  fight.  The  next 
thing  they  came  tearing  into  the  hospital, 
and  for  a  few  moments  one  would  have 
thought  the  room  was  filled  with  wild 
animals. 

For  two  days  there  was  constant  trou- 
ble and  commotion  in  the  hospital,  and 
I  felt  if  I  did  not  find  her  a  good  home 
(which  I  did),  all  of  my  patients  would 
have  nervous  prostration. 

164 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

Another  day  the  robins  were  very 
much  frightened  by  an  English  sparrow 
coming  to  the  hospital.  If  it  had  been 
a  large  hawk,  they  could  not  have  acted 
worse.  A  man  brought  him,  who  had 
taken  him  away  from  a  cruel  boy  who 
was  just  ready  to  give  him  to  his  cat. 
I  looked  him  all  over,  and,  when  I  found 
he  was  not  injured  in  any  way,  I  knew 
it  would  not  be  right  to  keep  him.  I 
would  have  liked  to,  as  he  reminded  me 
so  much  of  Mack.  When  I  opened  the 
window,  he  flew  out,  chirping  loudly,  and 
I  have  not  a  doubt  he  told  his  friends 
many  tales  of  his  narrow  escape,  about 
the  place  where  he  had  been,  and  the 
things  he  had  seen. 

One  day  a  little  girl  three  years  old 
came  to  visit  me.  As  she  stood  in  the 
door  looking  at  the  birds,  she  certainly 
looked  like  a  fairy  direct  from  Fairy- 
land, all  dressed  in  white,  with  the  whitest 
skin,  cheeks  like  the  pinkest  roses,  blue 
eyes  like  wood-violets,  and  curls  like  the 
165 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

brightest  of  gold.  But  Bobbinette  and 
Bobby  did  not  appreciate  the  picture,  for 
they  never  were  more  frightened  in  their 
lives,  and  it  was  hours  before  they  be- 
came used  to  her. 

Dona  Marina  always  knew  when  it  was 
five  o'clock,  and  time  for  Bobbinette  and 
Bobby  to^  have  their  supper  of  cracker 
and  milk,  and  she  would  bring  Blonde 
and  Brunette  and  sit  down  in  front  of 
me,  while  Bobbinette  and  Bobby  perched 
on  the  edge  of  the  box,  and  I  would  give 
them  each  a  piece  as  well  as  the  birds. 
Then  I  taught  them  to  sit  up  on  their 
haunches  like  little  bears  and  eat  their 
crackers. 

Blonde  would  often  take  her  piece  in 
one  paw  and  eat  it,  and  Brunette  would 
take  hers  in  both  paws  and  put  it  into 
her  mouth,  while  Dona  Marina  would  sit 
up  very  straight  with  her  little  paws  bent, 
and  look  first  at  one  kitten,  then  at  the 
other  in  a  very  proud  way. 

Now  Bobbinette  and  Bobby  have 

166 


THE    BIRD   HOSPITAL 

reached  the  dignity  of  having  a  little 
doll's  table  and  a  chair  of  their  own. 
They  will  stand  up  on  their  chairs  and 
eat  whatever  I  give  them  off  of  little 
butter-plates.  If  a  meal  worm  is  served, 
it  is  as  good  to  them  as  a  turkey  dinner 
is  to  any  of  us. 

Bobby  was  much  more  precocious  with 
his  singing  than  Cady.  I  wcfrked  many 
weeks  with  Cady  before  he  wbuld  make 
a  sound,  but  Bob  began  at  once  and  has 
improved  every  day  since. 

One  day  late  in  the  fall  I  took  him 
down  just  to  see  if  he  would  be  afraid 
of  the  piano,  but  he  was  not  in  the  least, 
and  began  to  sing  very  softly.  I  meant 
to  have  looked  up  some  new  music  for 
him,  but  he  was  ready  before  I  was,  so 
I  began  with  the  same  old  things  Cady 
sung,  and  he  seemed  to  like  them  just 
as  well  as  Cady  did.  I  have  added  to 
his  repertoire  that  pretty  little  waltz 
song,  "  Love  Comes  Like  a  Summer 
Dream,"  from  the  old  opera,  "  Little 
167 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

Tycoon,"  another  waltz  song,  "  I  am  Go- 
ing Far  Away,  Love,"  two  parts  from 
"  When  the  Leaves  Begin  to  Fall,"  and 
a  sweet  lullaby. 

A  friend,  who  is  a  professional  singer, 
came  to  hear  him  sing.  I  said  to  her: 
"  I  want  you  to  listen  to  every  note  and 
tell  me  honestly  just  what  you  think  of 
him."  He  sang  for  a  half -hour,  only 
stopping  while  I  changed  the  music. 
When  we  finished,  she  said:  "  I  do  not 
know  which  is  the  most  marvellous,  the 
pupil  or  the  teacher.  He  is  simply  won- 
derful, never  makes  one  discord,  keeps 
perfect  time,  and  carries  the  air  as  near 
as  possible,  and  the  little  trills  he  puts 
in  are  simply  bewitching." 

The  lullaby  he  sings  as  soft  and  low 
as  I  do.  What  kind  of  a  singer  I  am 
going  to  make  of  Bobbinette,  time  alone 
can  tell.  She  will  sing  with  me  a  little 
every  morning  up-stairs,  but  only  twice 
have  I  been  able  to  get  her  to  sing  down- 
stairs. I  bring  her  down  every  day  after 

168 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

Bob  has  had  his  singing  lesson.  Al- 
though she  is  such  a  fighter,  she  is  very 
timid  and  nervous  when  down-stairs  if 
there  is  any  one  there.  She  usually 
comes  down  on  my  shoulder,  and  I  can 
feel  every  nerve  in  her  body  quiver  as 
I  lay  my  cheek  against  her. 

When  Bobbinette  appears,  Bob  knows 
his  lesson  is  over  and  that  he  can  do  as 
he  pleases.  He  will  go  all  over  both 
rooms,  perch  on  anything  he  sees  fit,  sing 
a  little  in  a  very  low  voice,  come  and  look 
at  Bobbinette  and  stand  beside  her  on 
the  perch.  I  have  not  given  up  getting 
them  to  sing  a  duet  together.  When 
Bobbinette  sings  up-stairs,  Bob  stops 
short,  stands  on  one  leg,  and  listens  to 
her  with  a  look  as  much  as  to  say: 
"  What  are  you  trying  to  sing  for?  I 
am  the  singer." 

As    Bobbinette   is   a   good    listener,    I 

still  have  hopes  of  her.     She  is  so  pretty 

and  still  keeps  her  baby  look,  and  when 

she   listens   she   cocks   her   head   on   one 

169 


THE   BIRD   HOSPITAL 

side  and  looks  so  interested,  and  will  puff 
out  her  breast  and  open  her  bill  as  wide 
as  she  can.  For  a  treat  after  their  lesson, 
they  have  some  sugar  wafers.  They 
prefer  the  champagne  ones,  as  they  have 
more  chocolate  in  them.  They  get  on 
my  shoulder  and  take  the  wafer  out  of 
my  mouth.  Then  they  have  milk  (which 
they  love)  in  a  whiskey  glass.  Some 
days  they  have  two  or  three  Zante  cur- 
rants, of  which  they  are  very  fond. 

My  mother  has  all  of  her  meals  served 
in  the  back  parlour,  and  it  is  a  great 
treat  for  Bobbinette  and  Bobby  to  have 
their  singing  lesson  before  luncheon,  then 
they  stay  down  until  afterward. 

They  will  not  make  friends  with  any 
one  but  me,  but  they  will  get  as  near 
my  mother  as  they  dare,  and  see  what 
she  has  to  eat,  but  will  not  take  anything 
from  her. 

I  was  very  much  frightened  the  other 
day  to  see  a  hair  sticking  out  of  Bob- 
binette's  bill.  I  was  more  frightened 

170* 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

when  I  pulled  out  an  eighth  of  a  yard 
and  could  get  no  more,  as  it  seemed  to 
be  wound  around  the  lower  part  of  her 
tongue.  It  was  rather  a  difficult  task 
to  hold  the  bird,  take  a  magnifying  glass, 
and  open  the  bill  and  look  down.  After 
a  half -hour's  work  at  the  hair,  gently 
pulling  it  from  side  to  side,  it  became 
loose  and  came  out.  The  next  day  Bob 
came  to  me  holding  one  leg  up.  As  I 
looked  at  him,  I  thought  he  in  some  way 
had  gotten  a  rubber  band  around  his  leg. 
You  can  imagine  my  surprise,  when  I 
took  him  in  my  hand,  to  find,  instead  of 
a  rubber  band,  his  hind  claw  was  wound 
around  his  leg  and  caught  with  the  nail. 
How  it  ever  got  that  way,  I  have  not  the 
least  idea. 

As  I  entered  my  room  the  other  after- 
noon, I  saw  a  picture  that  any  artist 
might  have  been  proud  to  paint.  Dona 
Marina  was  lying  stretched  out  full 
length  on  the  foot  of  my  bed,  with  her 
new  baby  kittens,  Scozza  and  Fava,  lying 
171 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

beside  her;  all  were  in  Dreamland.  On 
the  brass  rod  at  the  foot  perched  Bobbi- 
nette  and  Bobby,  the  latter  singing  at 
the  top  of  his  voice,  while  Bobbinette 
listened. 

I  feel  sure  if  John  Burroughs  knew 
my  birds,  he  would  change  his  mind 
about  birds  not  thinking  and  reasoning. 

Many  people  know  birds  and  their 
habits  in  a  wild  state,  but  really  know 
nothing  of  them  as  pets  in  the  house. 

I  am  told  Mr.  Burroughs  does 
not  advocate  domesticating  wild  birds; 
neither  do  I,  if  they  are  old,  well,  and 
strong,  but,  on  the  contrary,  if  they  are 
injured,  and  are  only  easy  prey  for 
small  boys  and  cats,  I  firmly  believe  in 
taking  them  in  and  making  them  happy, 
which  I  think  I  have  always  succeeded 
in  doing. 

I  have  often  taken  birds  in,  expecting 
to  let  them  go  when  they  were  large 
enough,  but  they  simply  would  not,  for 
they  knew  they  would  not  know  how  to 

172 


THE   BIRD    HOSPITAL 

take  care  of  themselves  or  hunt  their 
food.  For  instance,  if  I  had  not  brought 
Bobbinette  and  Bobby  in,  they  would 
have  been  killed,  and  it  would  be  very 
cruel  to  turn  them  out  now  after  the 
luxurious  lives  they  have  lived  for  eleven 
months;  besides,  they  are  perfectly  well, 
and  happy  as  the  day  is  long,  and  know 
no  other  life. 

My  pets  are  a  great  care,  but  the  pleas- 
ure I  receive  from  them  more  than  rec- 
ompenses me.  I  only  hope  you  will  all 
be  so  interested  in  my  little  sketches  that 
you  will  "  cry  for  more,"  and  then  I 
shall  be  able  to  stop  your  crying. 


THE   END. 


173 


